


Touch

by kotabear24



Series: Senses. [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Anal Fingering, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Blood, Blow Jobs, Body Hair, Character Development, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Comeplay, Corruption, Escapism, Explicit Sexual Content, Exploration, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Frottage, Guns, Hair Washing, Hair-pulling, Hand Jobs, Head Injury, Homophobic Language, Hospitalization, Killing, Lube, M/M, Masturbation, Medication, Mild Language, Mildly Dubious Consent, Minor Character Death, Minor Injuries, Molestation, Multi, Mutual Masturbation, NOTICE ambiguous ending, Negotiations, Oral Sex, Parent/Child Incest, Rimming, Rutting, Safewords, Scheming, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Acceptance, Shock, Showers, Sleeping Together, Slurs, Spooning, Stalking, Suicide, Therapy, Threats, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Triggers, Underage Kissing, suicide of a minor character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-28
Updated: 2014-06-23
Packaged: 2017-11-17 06:04:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 51
Words: 228,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/548402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kotabear24/pseuds/kotabear24
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's shy and virginal with a past, new on the football team; Louis' the (experienced) popular star of the team and Harry's new mentor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1.

Harry wasn’t sure exactly what he was waiting for – or who, more like – but assumed he’d know when he found it. And it really wasn’t that difficult to keep all of his firsts to himself, because really, everyone thought he was weird.

Apparently, when you’re almost sixteen and you haven’t even held hands with a boy you like, girls (and guy mates you haven’t grown up with) think you’re really freaking weird. Harry didn’t mind. It kept a good amount of uncomfortable people away.

Of course, there were some times Harry was so sexually frustrated, and it’s not like he was stupid, he knew all about sex and everything – he had friends who’d done it. But sometimes Harry just wanted to go up to the next guy he saw and hold his hand and hug him and kiss him all over and then have every kind of sex with him, just because. Sometimes, Harry felt left out when Niall would talk to him and their mates about the things he’d done over the weekend. Of course, half the time, Niall was story-telling just to make his older brother, Greg, and Greg’s friends think he wasn’t some loser. Niall had only had sex once.

Harry often felt better around Liam. Even though Liam had sex a lot, with Danielle – they’d started having sex some months ago – Liam was really just a respectable boy. Sure, sometimes he talked about it, if he was directly asked by Harry or Niall or Andy, but really, Liam didn’t like to objectify or disrespect Dani like that. It made Harry feel better, for some weird reason.

That’s why Liam was the first person to know about Louis Tomlinson.

\---

Louis Tomlinson was seventeen, and went to the same school Harry had, but was only one year above him because he was out partying too much and had failed his exams the year before. Harry had known about Louis’ reputation – everyone did – but never really paid much attention; it wasn’t as if Harry was ever going to be affected by Louis’ partying. All he knew was Louis’ reputation and the fact that Louis was a stone-cold fit young man – one who Harry frequently fantasized about during his dirtier self-sexy-times. He didn’t see any harm in fantasizing every once in a while. It wasn’t as if Harry would ever even talk to Louis – they were in different circles (Louis’ circle being a very popular one and Harry’s circle consisting of Liam, Niall, and sometimes Liam’s mate Andy).

Except Harry had been promoted to the varsity football team. Of which, Louis was the center forward.

On Harry’s first day of varsity football practice, Louis was to take Harry, who was a right forward, and a transfer student, also a right forward, out to the second football field along with Stan Lucas, varsity’s left forward and one of Louis Tomlinson’s best friends to practice the drills and plays. Stan was pretty patient, breaking the plays down easily for Harry and struggling a little with the language barrier (he clearly was not ready for an English-speaking school, Harry had decided already), but Louis stood around, handling the ball around and staring at Harry, who was too busy trying to focus on Stan’s lessons to stare back, even though he wanted to.

There was something different about Louis, and Harry’s mind sarcastically argued back, _of course – he’s trouble, supid!_. Well, then. Harry nodded to himself and forced himself to run faster, control his kicks more, to pass straighter, to dribble with more agility. He noticed Stan sizing him up with approval, until the transfer student, whose name was still unpronounceable to the other three, started his own drills, having watched Stan and Harry go through them twice without him.

Harry watched with a feeling of disappointment as the transfer kid was just that tiny bit better than him. He realized with dread that he wasn’t going to get much playing time behind this kid.

He grabbed his own ball and looked to Louis, as Stan was clearly occupied with the transfer kid, and raised his eyebrows, holding up his football. Louis nodded and opened his hands, and Harry tossed the ball to him and followed when Louis turned and walked all the way to the other goal on the field.

“Harry, isn’t it?” Louis asked, and Harry nodded, trying to hide the sudden shyness he was feeling.

“Louis Tomlinson,” Louis continued. “But you can pretty much call me whatever, so long as it isn’t offensive. Got it?”

Harry nodded again, and Louis huffed impatiently. Harry realized he had been talking freely with Stan and it was probably irritating Louis that Harry wasn’t talking to him. Harry swallowed. “Got it,” he answered a little quietly.

“Also, you don’t have to be afraid of me,” Louis said firmly but kindly. “I’m not going to like…bite you or anything. Unless you’re into that,” he added with a playful wink. Harry blushed scarlet and fumbled a bit on his dribble, which let Louis easily flick the ball back in between his own legs. “What is it?” Louis asked, teasing a bit. “You act like you’ve never messed around! Haven’t you got your dick wet by now?”

Harry blushed even darker and tensed up, sensing this conversation was going downhill. Louis stopped jogging in circles around him and hesitantly touched Harry’s shoulder. “Shit, I’m sorry mate. You haven’t like, got any sex-disease or anything, have you?”

At this, Harry literally burst out laughing, although he felt bad because he could hear the genuine concern and regret in Louis’ voice. “That’s rich,” Harry laughed, arms folded over his stomach. Louis just stared, and Harry sobered up a little, feeling self-conscious. “It’s just – no, I haven’t – I meant. I don't have any...disease. Sorry. You didn’t…offend me or anything.”

Relief flooded Louis’ face, and Harry had to mentally convince himself it wasn’t because Louis cared about Harry’s feelings, that it was because he didn’t want awkwardness on his team. He looked upfield for a distraction while he convinced himself and instantly regretted it: Stan and the transfer kid were running around, passing the ball like they’d been training together their whole lives.

Louis interrupted Harry’s momentary wallowing with a hand to his shoulder. “I can make you better than him,” Louis offered.

Harry turned and looked at Louis, thinking hard. “Yeah? How?”

Louis’ face stayed serious. “There are two ways. One, I could break one of his legs in a tragically miscalculated dive for the ball – don’t laugh, coach would believe it, I’m shit with angles and all, ask my maths teacher!” He raised his voice to mock indignation when Harry laughed a little louder, but then carried on over him. “…Or we could train, me and you. After practice, I mean. Work in some extra hours, or something.”

Harry found himself nodding, and the two drilled together for the rest of practice. When the coach blew the whistle, the team went in, had a little pep talk, and went to the locker room. “Just meet me outside in five, yeah? Call your ride and let them know you don’t need them. I’ll just take you home.” Harry nodded and went to text Liam that he wouldn’t be walking home with him today because he was staying with a teammate to practice more drills. He waited until Liam replied with something that somewhat resembled English, and Harry assumed Liam understood because there were no question marks.

Tossing his phone into the locker he was assigned to, Harry filled his water bottle up and jogged out of the locker room, where Louis was standing, chatting with Stan.

“Sorry, mate, my mum’s working tonight. I have to watch my sisters; I can’t go,” he lamented in a dramatically whiny voice.

Stan groaned but nodded. “Well in that case, I think I’ll have Zayn be my wingman, or something, yeah?”

Louis pretend-scowled but laughed it off. “Good luck; you know he’s more interested in his reflection than picking up women,” he joked. He noticed Harry standing around, looking unsure of himself, and jerked his head in the direction of the field. “Go pick up the footballs, rookie,” he said calmly. Harry looked confused but did as Louis told, jogging off towards the field.

As he went, Harry heard Stan laugh and say, “What are you punishing him for?”

Louis snorted and answered, “Nothing. He’s just new. Have to break him in, yeah? So he picks up the equipment. Run along, now, don’t be late for that party,” he taunted. Stan sniggered but left, jogging to his car in the lot and speeding out.

Harry was just putting the last football in the bag when Louis jogged up to him. “Leave that one out. We’ll use it.” Harry nodded and dropped the ball to the ground, nudging it around with his foot. “Sorry,” Louis added, sensing Harry’s confusion. “Stan wouldn’t like it if he thought I favored you over the other kid. He’s all about skill as-is. Wouldn’t approve of me practicing with you.”

“Why are you?” Harry blurted, looking around to Louis and meeting his eyes. “Practicing with me, I mean?”

Louis stayed quiet, opened his mouth like he was going to say something, and closed it again. Finally, he answered, “I want someone on my right who speaks my language.” He grinned at Harry, who couldn’t help grinning back before passing the ball over to Louis.

“We don’t have to practice today, you know,” Harry mentioned. Louis looked up, confused, and Harry elaborated. “You have to watch your sisters, yeah? I don’t want you to be tired or anything…” But Louis was already shaking his head and laughing.

“No, my mum doesn’t work graveyard shift on weekends. I just didn’t want to go out and party tonight, is all. Stan’s idea of partying is different than mine. Plus, I’d already told you we’d practice, yeah?”

Harry nodded. “What’s your idea of partying, then?” he asked, curious.

Louis smirked and stared hard at Harry for a while before kicking the ball down the field. “It’s not getting smashed and picking up girls, like you probably think it is.” Before Harry could even deny it (although, he had to admit, that was what he thought Louis would party like), he instructed Harry, “Go get the ball, dribble it up, and we’ll play keep away. Good luck. I’m quick.”

The two practiced well over three hours, and the light was fading by the time Louis realized it. Glancing at his watch on a break, he exclaimed, “Shit, it’s late!”

Harry frowned and glanced at Louis’ wrist, a jolt of surprise running through him when he realized the sky was turning purple. He started to think his mum might worry, as it wasn’t like Harry to be out late on Friday nights, but relaxed, knowing Liam would have told her for him. Still, it would probably do good to head home now and calm her nerves.

“Guess we’ll have to go turn on the field lights, now, won’t we?” Louis grinned, looking over at Harry. It was a suggestion, and Harry knew he could say he needed to get home and Louis would probably take him, but Harry found himself wanting to stay.

So he nodded.

When Harry and Louis’ stomachs were starting to growl, Louis yelled across the field. “I’m about to die; d’you think you’re ready to leave?”

Harry nodded, just as out of breath as Louis was, and let the football Louis had just sent flying hit his chest and drop to the ground. Ignoring the slight sting - there had been many hits to the chest - Harry kicked the ball towards the ball bag and followed at a brisk pace, only slowing once he saw Louis was slowing, too, from across the field.

Harry put the ball into the bag and grabbed Louis’ things and his own water bottle, heading back to the locker room to retrieve his own things and put the balls in the equipment room. Louis followed at a pace like a sloth’s. By the time Harry had put the balls up, gotten changed out of his practice clothes and taken his backpack, phone, iPod, and wallet out of his locker and walked out of the room, Louis was just there, coughing.

Harry passed over the water bottle he’d filled up, and Louis took it gratefully, chugging nearly half of it. “Slowly, or you’ll throw up,” Harry admonished gently.

“Says who?” Louis threw back playfully as he swallowed another mouthful.

“My sports med teacher,” Harry announced, smiling triumphantly when Louis grimaced in defeat.

“Let me go get my stuff and change. You smell better than me; that’s not acceptable,” Louis said, his breathing back to almost-normal as he walked into the locker room. Harry sat on a bench just outside the football field and waited until Louis came out, dressed in a different outfit than he had worn to school. Harry raised his eyebrows.

“I don’t like changing back into the clothes I wore all day,” Louis said with a shrug, his trousers a little looser than the ones before practice, his striped shirt thinner but not the least bit looser. Harry could see Louis’ abs through the shirt. It became a slight distraction. “ _Harry_ ,” Louis emphasized, sounding like he’d repeated it a few times.

“Sorry,” Harry said, snapping to attention and standing. “Yeah, I’m ready. We can go now.” Trying to hide his blush and fend off a slight hardening of his dick, Harry stood on his toes and bounced, smiling shyly.

Louis raised his eyebrows in a smirk, but said nothing as he led the way to his car. A freaking _Porsche_. Harry got into the passenger seat as Louis went around to the boot and put his things in. Closing his eyes, Harry breathed slowly as he processed the fact that it was completely unfair to even _look_ like Louis, much less have a sexy car along with good looks. He kept his eyes closed and mentally complained about the injustice of fate in his world as Louis got into the car and started the engine.

“Alright there, Harry?” Louis asked with a small laugh as he drove from the parking lot.

Harry opened his eyes and saw Louis glancing over at him. “Yeah-” Harry cleared his throat, which came out sounding a little huskier, and continued, “Yeah, ‘m alright. Good practice, that was.”

Louis shivered and leaned down to turn up the heat, humming his agreement as he turned off the main road. “I’m hungry and I can’t wait. Hope you didn’t have plans of going straight home,” he informed Harry casually.

Harry only shook his head. “’S not like I’d be doing anything, anyway,” Harry laughed, but Louis frowned.

“Why don’t I see you at parties or anything? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you out.”

Harry blushed. “I don’t really…go out,” he hedged.

“You should!” Louis exclaimed as he parked the car in front of a McDonald’s. “You don’t have to drink to party, if that’s what it is,” he added as he climbed out of his car.

Harry shook his head. “It’s not that I have a problem with drinking. I mean, I don’t drink, really…but it’s like. It’s not really my scene, you know?”

Louis looked amused, holding the door open for Harry and following him in. “Get whatever you want, I’ll pay,” he told Harry before ordering a meal and Harry uneasily ordered the cheapest thing he could find. “He’ll have three of those and a large fry,” Louis told the cashier. “And a large drink,” he added for good measure. Harry started to protest but Louis cut him off, saying dramatically, “Harry, if you’re going to be a cheap date, at least let me make myself feel better by spoiling you.” Harry blushed as the cashier giggled quietly and accepted, thanking him graciously.

As they walked to the drink machine, Louis continued their conversation. “What scene do you mean, exactly?”

Harry waited until Louis picked a table and sat down across from him to answer, brows a little furrowed. “The whole - 'getting smashed and picking up girls and dancing and - and making a reputation for yourself' scene,” Harry admitted, biting his lip while hoping he hadn’t offended Louis.

But Louis just smiled. “You’re talking about me, yeah?” Harry chewed his lip more and nodded, glancing up anxiously. Before Louis could answer, their number was called and he stood to go get it. When he came back, he continued as he passed Harry’s food over to him and got his own, “The thing is, my reputation is mostly just that - a reputation. It’s not true. Do I get smashed? Well - that part is true sometimes. I enjoy drinking; I’ll give you that one. No shame in it. And dancing - I really like dancing. I’m quite shit at it, to be honest, but I love it. But I don’t go pick up girls and take them home and - no. I don’t do that.” Louis paused and looked at Harry pointedly. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

Harry shook his head. “Why would you lie to me? What have you got to gain? No, I believe you,” he assured Louis. He wanted to ask so many questions, but he didn’t want to seem like an idiot, or an over-eager kid. Louis was older, after all, and much, much cooler.

“You can ask me questions, Harry,” Louis mumbled around his food a little impatiently, looking amused.

Harry blushed. “It’s just - this is going to sound really, really weird, but - why _don’t_ you pick up girls at parties? Seems like, if I were you, and I already had a reputation like yours - no offense - and I was single - you are, aren’t you? - I’d be picking up people left and right. Why don’t you?”

Louis watched Harry struggle through the question, then smiled to himself. “I’m not sure if you meant that as a compliment, but I’m going to take it as one. And yes, I am single. Are you hitting on me? That would make you a nice date.” Louis laughed a little at Harry’s blush. “Harry, I’m _gay_.”

Harry’s mind screamed a million different things all at once, and finally ended on _he’s gay oh my god I actually have a chance in this world oh my gosh he’s gay wait what the crap he’s gay oh my god_.

“Is that a problem?” Louis asked, but he was smiling like he could tell Harry wouldn’t have a problem with it.

“Wha- oh, no, it’s not a - I don’t - I’m fine with - I’m - it’s okay,” Harry finally concluded, blushing a dark red.

Louis laughed. “Harry, are you gay?” he asked.

Harry was caught off guard, okay? “Yeah,” he answered, and then clapped his hand over his mouth.

“It’s _fine_ , Harry,” Louis soothed. He put his milkshake down and touched the back of Harry’s hand just briefly. “It’s okay. I’m gay, remember? There’s no judgment.”

Harry took a deep breath and nodded. “I’ve - only told that to one other person,” he admitted, thinking fondly of Liam. “D’you know Liam Payne? He’s in my year.”

Louis nodded, much to Harry’s surprise. Harry hadn’t expected Louis to know anything about Liam, Niall, Andy, or himself. “Bit of a mother-hen you hang round with, yeah? And Niall, and - sorry, I forget the other one’s name,” he trailed off, looking awkward.

“Andy,” Harry supplied, a little shocked. “Well, yeah, but - Liam’s the only one. Who knows.”

Louis nodded. “Are you two dating?” he asked, watching Harry’s face closely.

Harry coughed around his food. “What?! Me and Liam? No, no, Liam’s been my best mate since I was four! That’d be like…like…dating a _brother_!” He made a sound of disgust before composing himself. “Liam is my best mate, that’s all. I’ve never dated anyo- him,” he corrected himself hastily.

“Wait, you’ve never had a boyfriend?” Louis asked incredulously, and Harry was so embarrassed he wanted to cry. He stuffed food in his face and wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans as he shook his head.

Louis seemed to realize he’d embarrassed Harry, and tried to go about making it right. “That’s fine, Harry, I’m just - shocked, really. You’re - to be honest, you’re quite fit. I just thought…it’s nothing to be embarrassed about, really.”

Harry nodded, still bright red, and continued to eat silently. Louis joined in the silence for a few minutes, fidgeting until Harry had to let up. “You can ask me,” he sighed.

“Why haven’t you had a boyfriend?” Louis blurted out, sounding almost desperate to know, like the question had been burning him.

Harry’s breathing hitched a bit in surprise and he took a drink to settle his cough. “I - it just never felt right, I suppose.” He shrugged and Louis looked at him in disbelief.

“You’re _way_ too mature for your age, Harry,” he said seriously. “So what about sex? Are you a virgin, then?”

Harry looked down and answered to the table as he felt the loneliness well up inside of him. “Yeah. I’ve never even…held hands. With a guy, I mean.”

Harry expected Louis to laugh, or come up with another blurted out question, but he just felt Louis’ fingertips touching his own. He looked up and Louis’ face was full of some kind of emotion. For a second, Harry wanted to throw himself across the table and fuck him senseless...but then he snatched his hands away. “I don’t want pity, Louis, I’m proud of myself.”

Louis looked shocked and completely innocent as he held his hands up in surrender. “I wasn’t pitying, I swear, Harry. If you wanted it, you could have anyone at that school in two seconds, dead. I don’t pity you for a second. I just - wanted to touch you.” Harry snorted, and then Louis blushed a bit. “Alright, for the king of virgins, you’ve got a dirty mind,” he teased, and Harry couldn’t help it - he doubled over laughing at the new nickname.

“Call me _Your Highness_ ,” he said in a snobby voice, turning his nose up.

Louis laughed with him but warned, “I’ll do it,” and Harry laughed again.

On the way home, Louis and Harry were a bit more at ease with each other, joking around and carrying on. Louis stopped at Harry’s driveway and turned to look at him. “I’m not going to ask for a kiss goodnight, but you were a lovely date." Harry blushed, and Louis more seriously added, "And you’re a good footballer, Harry. Be more confident in it.” Harry nodded and Louis continued. “Just text me if you’re up for practice tomorrow, or something.”

Harry paused. “I don’t have your number…” he trailed off, feeling like an idiot.

But Louis apparently had forgotten Harry didn’t have it. “Oh - right, wait, here-” He reached around for a sharpie he had in his glove box and grabbed Harry’s fingers, writing his mobile number. “That’s me. Just text me or something whenever you want to practice, yeah? Or, like, for whatever.”

Harry couldn’t breathe properly, but he nodded anyways and opened the door. As he grabbed his things, he was careful not to smear the marker on his palm and he closed the car door with the other hand. Louis drove off with a wave and Harry walked to his door, waving his hand in the air to make sure the marker dried completely.

Harry greeted his mum as she met him at the stairs to see him. “Have fun?” she asked. “My big, strong varsity footballer,” she added, like she couldn’t help it.

Harry laughed and ducked his head. “Yeah, I had fun. But I’m gonna have to work extra hard if I want to play alongside Louis Tomlinson,” he muttered.

“Louis Tomlinson?” she asked, surprised.

Harry, equally surprised at her tone, answered, “Yeah. He’s center, so I’ll literally be right next to him. If I get the spot, I mean.”

Anne smiled. “Oh, I know Louis. He’s the sweetest. His mum was my nurse the other day at my appointment. He came in and charmed all the other nurses out of their scrub trousers,” she joked. “He’s quite like you in that way. Is he as nice in football?”

Harry smiled as he nodded. “He’s really nice. Funny, too. If I get the spot, I think I’ll have a really good season.”

His mum smiled and rubbed his arm and bid him goodnight. “You had better get some sleep. Quite the busy Friday night you’ve had, yeah?”

Harry laughed as he climbed the stairs with his bag. “Right. Stay five hours late for practice and then McDonald’s. It’s a wonder you let me out at all!”

“So rebellious,” Anne continued with a warm laugh.

Harry got to his room and threw his bag down on the floor and pulled out his phone, texting Liam that he was home to stop his mate from worrying he was dead on the field or something. They texted back and forth for an hour or so, and Harry told Liam all about the drills, that damned transfer student, and the complicated plays. But he didn’t tell Liam about Louis yet.

It was the type of thing Liam would just have to see.


	2. Part 2.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Louis asks Harry out.

Louis opened his door and crept quietly into the hallway, checking for anyone awake. He found Fliss asleep on the couch and walked silently over to her, picking her dainty frame up and carried her down the hall to her room. Backing out of the room, he nearly yelped when his back collided with his mum. She made a ‘shhh’ing gesture and motioned for him to walk to the kitchen with her.

Jay pulled out a tub of ice cream - their usual late night snack if Jay was up when Louis got in - and two spoons as Louis sat at the table. “How was your day?” Jay asked with a kiss to Louis’ head.

“Good,” he answered with a smile. “Yours?”

Jay sighed. “Too early,” she groaned, “but good, either way. Only a few cases of Bad News.”

Louis smiled. “That’s great, Mum!”

Jay smiled back at her son. “So? Am I really going to have to ask?” Louis looked at her blankly and she sighed. “Did that boy make the team or not?” She asked excitedly.

Louis laughed. Okay, so _maybe_ he’d been telling his mum every single detail about Harry Styles’ life since the boy had caught his eye. He told his mum everything. And during tryouts, Louis had been hoping and praying the coach thought Harry was ready for varsity. “Yeah, he did. Him and some transfer kid who’s actually a bit better than him.” He scowled and scooped a spoon of ice cream, shoving it into his mouth and regretting it when he got a brain freeze.

Jay laughed at the expression but sighed in sympathy. “Well, nothing you can do about that, love,” she soothed.

Louis laughed. “Of course there’s something I can do, Mum!” He whisper-shouted a little manically, looking at her like she was mad. “That’s where I was all night! With Harry!” Jay looked a little apprehensive. Louis knew his mum loved him, but he also knew she thought he could be a bit… _much_ sometimes. It was true enough. “We’ve been practicing. The plays, the drills, his basics, everything. And I think we’re going to practice tomorrow, too. If he texts me.”

Jay perked up. “You gave him your number?” She asked, making a playful face at him. “Oooh, Louis, you’re so easy!”

Louis laughed and swatted his mum’s arm. “Trust me. If anything, being easy would only scare him off. Get this, Mum: Harry’s a _virgin_.”

Jay’s eyebrows rose. “There’s no way.” She’d seen photos of Harry (it may or may not be true that Louis had found Harry’s Facebook and twitter and shown her photos while he drooled over him) and agreed, much to Louis’ delight, that he was a good-looking kid (in a non-creeper way).

But Louis was nodding, talking animatedly about it. “No, Mum, seriously! Like, he’s never done _anything_. He’s never even had a boyfriend.”

Jay’s spoon froze on its way to her mouth, which stayed open as she stared at Louis for a bit. Finally, she put her spoon back into the box and looked him square in the eye. “Lou…are you sure you still want this?”

Louis nodded, brows furrowed together. “Why wouldn’t I? I’m hardly going to stop liking him because he’s never done anything. That’s actually kind've awesome.”

Jay nodded. “Well, yeah, but…Lou, that makes it a lot more complicated. …And I know you never set out to be a heart-breaker…but you’re just…you’re fickle. And it would be one thing if Harry had even a little experience of his own, or if he was fickle, too… I just think you might hurt him without meaning to. And I think that would hurt you.”

Louis’ gaze softened and he smiled. “But Mum, think about it. I’ve been focused on Harry so long, it’s already pathetic, right?”

“Right,” Jay agreed with a smile.

“So I might as well at least see where this could possibly go. If nothing else, I could have a really fit footballer mate.”

Jay continued to watch Louis as he ate for a minute, and then brought her spoon back to her mouth with a shrug and an, “If you’re sure, love.” Louis smiled at his mum’s acceptance.

\---

It was times like these that made Louis wish he had an older sibling. Or a mate who was gay and a halfway man-slut and wanted to charm a gay King of Virgins - but because he liked said King of Virgins and not just to deflower him, but to be friends.

Then again, Louis figured this was a one-of-a-kind situation.

Nevertheless, Louis decided as he watched Harry set up the equipment on the field from the locker room door, that he would call Eleanor after their practice was over. The past few weeks of training nearly every day after football practice with Harry (and texting around the clock) had brought the two boys much closer, and Louis found himself going out of his way to catch glimpses of Harry at school. The boy always blushed and waved, Niall and Liam next to him and chatting with him. Louis couldn’t help but feel the pride in knowing he’d made Harry blush. It was easy to do it, but always fun. And he couldn’t help but feel like today was a big step for them, somehow.

Harry had texted Louis quite late the night before, saying he had no plans today and asked if Louis was free at all to practice. Louis had actually already made plans with Stan in the evening, but when he offered to cancel them, Harry vehemently protested and suggested meeting at the field in the morning.

That’s right. Louis had gotten up at _seven on a Saturday morning_ to drill football into the mind of the King of Virgins.

Harry looked up and caught Louis staring at him and blushed, turning away to nudge the footballs in place for the agility drill they’d spent a while on the night before. Harry had problems cutting right, and Louis could tell how badly it had irritated the younger boy. As Louis pushed himself off the wall of the locker room, Harry began the complicated drill of footwork, zigzagging and running and turning.

Louis jogged up to the drill and began it, soon catching up to Harry and threatening to overtake him. He didn’t though, just encouraged him on, chanting things like “Faster, c’mon, Harry!” and “No, not - yes, like that, good” just to keep the boy going. It had startled Harry at first - apparently, he hadn’t heard Louis’ footsteps, too focused on his own agility, which Louis actually really admired - but every time Louis said something to him, he nodded, curls held back by the beanie on his head.

It was a bit chilly out, but running around doing drills and sprints had warmed both Harry and Louis up to sweating messes within the hour. Louis was surprised, as most of the younger players typically went easy when the coach wasn’t around, but if anything, Harry practiced harder, like he had something to prove. Louis was a better footballer, but he was impressed with Harry’s determination and had to remind Harry to take breaks.

After enough time for his body to realize it hadn’t been fed lunch yet, Harry reached into his bag during a break and pulled out a plastic bag. Louis looked curiously on as the boy pulled out plastic containers of food and soon enough, Harry had a picnic spread on the lines of the football field. He looked up at Louis shyly and mumbled something. “What?” Louis asked.

Harry took a deep breath and repeated himself. “I - brought us food. I thought we might get hungry. And I just heard your stomach growl, so I thought…” he trailed off awkwardly, looking around at the food and back up to Louis.

Louis smiled and left the bench to sit in the grass with Harry. “Thank you, that was really nice.”

Harry smiled at his cleats and blushed faintly, and Louis grinned wider at the sight. His stomach rumbled again, and Harry started opening containers, pointing to them and telling what was in each one. Most of them were different meats for sandwiches - Harry explained that he didn’t think anything too heavy would be smart, with them running around.

Louis stayed smiling the whole time, complimenting Harry on his cleverness to not bring anything heavy. Harry sighed happily and started making his own sandwich, handing Louis the container with bread in it when he was done. They ate and relaxed and chatted for about half an hour, Louis having to demand that Harry sit down that long. Harry had blushed but sat down immediately, much to Louis’ pleasure, and fidgeted with one of his bracelets. Harry always had on tons of bracelets.

“Can I ask you a question?” Louis finally asked.

Harry looked amused and nodded. “You can always ask me questions, Lou.”

Louis felt a weird thrill go through him at the permission. Maybe it was just the way Harry said it. “Erm. Why do you always wear bracelets, Harry?” He tried to ask gently, so he wouldn’t upset the boy lest it make him shut down, but he could see the shock in Harry’s eyes. “What’s underneath all those, huh?”

Harry smiled again and started pushing his bracelets off his wrists, showing Louis his perfect porcelain skin. “Nothing, I promise,” he said. “I just like them, is all. I’ve never…done that to myself. It would break my mum’s heart. Liam’s, too, I suppose,” he added with a grin.

Louis didn’t doubt that. He’d seen how badly Harry’s friend worried over everything, Harry and their blonde friend Niall especially. “Can I ask you another one?”

Harry laughed and replied, “Only if you stop asking me if you can ask me questions.”

Louis paused and held up his hands. “Fair trade, alright.” He steeled himself for a refusal to answer, but asked anyway. “Why are you a virgin?”

Harry paused, mid-chew, before finishing and swallowing the sandwich as he stared at Louis. He grabbed his water and took a drink, still staring, and Louis started to feel a bit uncomfortable, like he’d crossed a line or something. Finally, he answered with a shrug. “I just never wanted it, really. I mean, I’m not a freak or anything, I still get - you know - but, I never really found anyone I liked enough. Kind of feels like it should be someone important, you know? I’m not like, saving it for marriage, or anything, but. I just always felt like it should be someone important to me. Nobody has been yet.”

Louis bit his lip, hesitating, and Harry laughed at him. “Louis, I mean it. You can ask me questions.”

Louis nodded but thought more on how he wanted to phrase his question. “But you do…” He mimed having a wank and blushed as he looked at Harry.

Harry blushed, but nodded. “Yeah.”

Louis nodded. “But surely you know you could have any guy you wanted in a snap of your fingers,” he implored Harry to understand.

Harry laughed and stuck his tongue out between his lips, looking Louis dead in the eyes, and brought his hand up to deliberately snap his fingers.

Louis blinked twice, mouth falling open, before Harry was laughing on the grass. Louis frowned at Harry and pretended to pout. “That wasn’t nice, Harry,” he said.

Harry tried valiantly to stop laughing, but it was a losing battle and Louis’ pout was starting to lose its power as Louis got more and more distracted by the wonderful sound of Harry’s laugh. Finally, the boy stopped and managed out, “Sorry, I’m sorry. I won’t do it again, swear.” Louis ignored the tug he felt on his heart with Harry’s words, but then Harry was saying, “But see? Proves it. I couldn’t have any guy I wanted in the snap of my fingers.”

Louis’ head snapped up to meet Harry’s gaze, eyes wide and jaw nearly on the floor. “You - did you -”

Harry shook his head with a smile, blushing like he was going to die. “Don’t worry about it, mate. Must be the power of your bum, or something.”

Louis grinned. “I quite fancy your pants off, Harry. I dunno if you knew that, but. Yeah. I do.”

Harry seemed to appreciate the bluntness, because he grinned and his eyes lit up. “Yeah?”

Louis nodded, and a massive part of him wanted to lean forward and kiss Harry, but he held himself in check. Suddenly feeling shy, Louis asked Harry, “Did you want to maybe…go out sometime? Like, on a real date, or something?”

Harry blushed, eyes wide, but nodded. “Yeah, I - I think I would like that, probably.” He bit his lip, looking worried. “Do you mind if I tell Liam? Only, he’ll worry and I hate that for him, and -”

Louis interrupted Harry’s worried rambling with a laugh. “You can tell anyone you want, Harry. I’ve got nothing to hide. I like you. People have probably known that for a good while.”

Harry blushed and blurted out, “I’ll have to call Niall, too,” and covered his mouth.

To make him feel better, Louis offered, “As soon as I drop you off, I’ll be calling Zayn and telling him. And once coach gives you your spot, I’ll be telling Stan, too.”

Harry smiled. After a second’s thought, he asked, “Is that really why you’re helping me? Because you - like me?”

Louis answered honestly. “No. If anything, the fact that I like you should have kept me from drilling with you.” Harry cocked an eyebrow up, and Louis elaborated. “It’s just a little more difficult to focus sometimes with you right next to me looking like you do. You’re more distracting than you think.”

Harry laughed openly before asking, “Why, then? Is it really because Chibuzo doesn’t speak English very well?”

Louis sniggered to himself. “No. That’s horribly racist, isn’t it?” He laughed more before surrendering. “I’ve…fancied you for a good while now. It was really difficult to watch the disappointment on your face when you saw Chibuzo do all those tricks you couldn’t. But I really would prefer you next to me than him. For all the time you’re out here practicing, and as hard as you work in practice at school, Chibuzo goes out and parties around the clock. Not very reliable. Stan says Chibuzo’s at the parties before he is and he’s there after Stan leaves.”

Harry’s eyes widened and he nodded, apparently understanding. He stood up then, stretching (and Louis did not stare at the sliver of stomach bared by the stretch, except he totally did) and muttered, “Race you,” before sprinting off. Louis jumped up and sprinted after him, shouting, “Not fair!”

Harry just had enough time to laugh before Louis’ snaked his hands, and then arms, around Harry’s waist and lifted Harry into the air and spun around, pulling them both to the ground. Louis was laughing as he rolled Harry onto his back, laying somewhat on top of him and propping himself above Harry with his hands. Harry had stopped breathing, though, staring into Louis’ eyes with his own widened. Louis immediately remembered he needed to keep himself in check.

“Sorry, am I -”

Harry shook his head, finally breathing out. His breath smelled like the red Gatorade he’d just drank during lunch. “No, I - this is new.” He was breathing a bit heavy, and Louis shifted so he wasn’t so much on top of Harry as next to him and twisting his torso to lean over him.

“Is this better?” He asked cautiously.

Harry swallowed, looking almost frightened, but nodded. Louis sighed and sat up, leaning to pull Harry into a sitting position. Harry followed, pliant in Louis’ hands, looking apologetic. But Louis beat him to the punch.

“Sorry,” he said sincerely. “It’s - easy to forget you’re not used to this. In the moment.”

Harry looked apprehensive. “Does that bother you? That I’m not…” He trailed off awkwardly, fidgeting with his fingers as he sat cross-legged.

Louis shook his head vehemently. “No, no it doesn’t. It makes you special,” he confessed. “I love that. It’s probably one of my favorite things about you. It’s just hard to remember when I want..so much.”

Harry looked into Louis’ eyes at the admission, eyes wide and a smile beginning to curve on his lips. “I do, too,” he assured Louis. “Just…” he bit his lip. “Just, maybe…we have to work up to it, yeah?”

Louis nodded, staring straight into Harry’s eyes. “I’ll never pressure you, Harry,” he vowed genuinely, heart constricting with the sincerity of his words. “I’ll never hurt you or push you or anything, I swear. Just - tell me, if it gets too much, alright? Like a safety word, or something?”

Harry thought for a second and nodded. “I’ll shout ‘rape’ if it gets too much,” he said, trying hard to keep his face serious and failing the second the words were out of his mouth. Laughing with Louis, Harry finally said, “I’ll say…’touch’. Yeah?”

Louis nodded. “Touch. Okay. Yeah.”

>p>They sat awkwardly for a bit before they felt raindrops on their heads. Louis started laughing. “This would be perfectly romantic later on down the road.”

Harry got the joke and laughed, standing up and pulling Louis to stand, too. They jogged over to the food and cleaned up before running around to get the equipment to put it up.

Minutes later, they sat in Louis’ Porsche, rain coming down onto the car as Louis blasted the heat to dry them and warm them up. Louis passed through town, smiling as Harry fidgeted with the music until he got to a song he liked, and they both sang it, loud and ridiculous. Louis may or may not have been guilty of driving ten under the limit, just so he got to keep Harry longer.

When he pulled to a stop in front of Harry’s house, Louis reached over and touched Harry’s hand briefly. The younger boy looked up, smiling. “Would you like to go out with me tomorrow?” Louis rushed the words out, but Harry thankfully understood them .

Smiling, he answered, “Yeah, I would. I’d like that very much.”

Louis smiled. “Dinner? You can pick where you want to go. I’ll pick you up at seven, okay?”

Harry blushed and nodded a little excitedly, daring to touch Louis’ hand quickly before getting out of the car. Louis stayed until Harry was inside before speeding off. The second he got home, he pulled out his phone and texted Zayn, thinking he would surely be awake by now.

It turned out he was wrong, as Zayn didn’t call until nearly an hour later. But when Louis’ phone vibrated, he whipped it up to his ear and started talking. Zayn would love hearing this.


	3. Part 3.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Louis takes Harry on their first date.

Harry shut the door securely and danced around to the whir of excitement in his head.

“What are you doin’, mate?”

Harry nearly jumped out of his skin and turned to find Niall in the doorway of his kitchen, obviously amused. Harry blushed. “Erm. Let me text Liam to get over here and I’ll have to-”

“Already here, mate,” Liam said cheerfully as he poked his head around the doorway, eyebrows raised.

Harry swallowed. “Right. Well. Come up to my room, I have to tell you things.”

Without looking to see if he was being followed, Harry climbed the stairs and went into his room, Liam and Niall trailing behind him. After Niall shut the door and they all sat on Harry’s bed, Harry started talking.

“So, you lot know I made varsity this year, and I’ve been staying after and practicing so the other new right forward - Chibuzo - doesn’t get my spot. Right?” The other two nodded, so Harry continued. “Well…I’ve been practicing with Louis Tomlinson.”

Niall and Liam’s eyes widened. “Louis Tomlinson?!” Liam asked, concern in his voice. “The one who parties and gets with girls and stuff?”

Niall scoffed. “No, Liam, Louis’ gay.”

Harry looked to Niall. “How’d _you_ know that?” he demanded as Liam’s brows furrowed again.

Niall rolled his eyes. “He was in Greg’s year last year, remember? ‘Til Louis failed and had t’repeat. Their whole year knew.” He shrugged his shoulders.

 _Oh_ , Harry thought. _Duh_. “Well, yeah, I’ve been spending loads of time with him. And…and I fancy him.”

They both look struck. Niall hadn’t known Harry was gay, and Liam simply hadn’t known Harry fancied Louis. “What?” They both asked.

Harry blushed and nodded. “Yeah, I fancy Louis Tomlinson. And, erm, he fancies me.”

“ _What_?!” Liam demanded, sounding a little angry.

“Me and Louis Tomlinson fancy each other?” Harry said in a small voice, like it was a question.

Liam huffed angrily and Harry waited a full sixty seconds to deliver the rest of the news. “He’s taking me to dinner tomorrow night.”

They both gaped at Harry - Niall happily and Liam sour-faced.

“Nice one, mate!” Niall cheered, holding up a hand for Harry to high-five, which Harry did with a small smile. Niall and Harry turned to Liam, who was apparently having some internal conflict with himself. Harry’s eyes flicked back to Niall: they knew that look meant Liam was Thinking About Important Things.

“So, where are you goin’?” Niall asked excitedly.

“Erm, he said I could pick, but I dunno where we should go. Any ideas?”

Niall sat and thought, but he was obviously baffled. “I dunno, I don’t really go on dates…Li? Any ideas?”

The two looked over to Liam, who snapped out of it and ran a hand down his face, fingers digging at his skin. “Go to Olive Garden,” he muttered unhappily.

Harry scooted closer on the bed towards Liam and touched his knee. “What’s wrong, Liam? You - you knew, remember? I told you I - like guys.” Ignoring Niall’s indignant “Hey!”, Harry squeezed Liam’s knee. “What’d I do?”

Liam breathed out a sigh and shook his head. “It’s not you…I just. I’ve heard things about Louis Tomlinson and I don’t like this.” He waved a hand in Harry’s general direction, making Harry’s brows furrow. “I just feel like he’s using you.”

Harry bit his lip. “But Louis wouldn’t do that to me. Louis fancies me.” Liam just looked at Harry like he was a naive kid. Which, okay, he was, really, but. Still. “Look, he’s picking me up at seven. If you want to like, meet him, or something.”

“That’ll be nice, Li,” Niall butted in cheerfully. “You’ll be like, his dad, or somethin’.” Harry shot a sharp look to Niall that had the blonde rephrasing. “You could be like how the dads do when they meet their kid’s new boyfriend. The tough handshake, questions about his life choices, a subtle little threat or somethin’. I bet I could borrow me dad’s gun for a bit,” he added.

“Niall!”

“What? I’m just tryin’ t’help, Harry.”

“Liam is not pointing a _gun_ at him!”

“Well, I never said he had t’ _point_ the damn thing, now, did I?”

“Enough,” Liam interrupted Harry’s response wearily. “Niall, please don’t bring your dad’s gun tomorrow. Harry, I’ll be here.”

“Please, Li,” Harry whined. “Please be happy for me. I really fancy him. I think he might…be the one. For…me.”/p>

Niall cheered loudly, but Liam sputtered, only managing to control himself when Anne knocked on the door and opened it. “Alright if I come in?” She asked cheerfully, peeking her head around the door.

“’Course,” Harry answered with a smile. “Actually, I wanted to tell you - I’m going out with Louis tomorrow evening.”

Harry’s mum nodded happily. “That’s fine. I’ll be working, you know that, love,” she reminded him.

“I know, I just thought I’d let you know,” he smiled angelically.

Anne smiled back and ran a hand over Harry’s hair. “So sweet. I like Louis Tomlinson; I’m glad you’re spending time with your teammates. And he’s a good lad.”

Liam snorted and Harry shot him a look. Anne’s eyes flickered between the two, and then to Niall, who was blatantly staring at her, before shaking her head fondly and turning to walk out the door. “Food’s ready in a few minutes, yeah?” The boys thanked her and smiled, and she left.

Harry threw out two hands to hit each boy on the back of their heads.

“Ouch!”

“Shit!”

“ _You_ , stop checking out my mum every time you see her,” he scolded Niall. “And you, don’t make her suspicious,” Harry scolded Liam.

\---

At half past six the next evening, Harry was dressed in tight black skinny jeans and a white t-shirt, a grey blazer over top. Liam was dressed in denim jeans and a plaid shirt, buttoned all the way up to look smart.

“You really don’t have to be here, Li,” Harry tried again, but Liam shook his head.

“I do, Harry, you know I do,” he said curtly. Harry didn’t argue this time. Apparently, his silence was enough to do Liam in. “You don’t have to be angry, Harry, I’m only looking out for you.”

Harry tried to hide his laugh. “I’m not angry, Li, promise. I just think you’re taking this too far.”

“Are you hiding something?” Liam asked, eyebrows raised.

“No!”

“Then what problem have you got with me meeting him?” Liam countered.

Harry huffed. “No problem. I just think if I wanted a father figure to protect me, I’d - call yours, or something.”

They both knew that was a lie before it was even out of Harry’s mouth, but Liam didn’t comment on it. The silence stretched until a knock sounded on the front door. Harry jumped up, pulling at the hem of his shirt, but Liam stood slowly and pushed his chair in. Together, they walked to the front door and Harry opened it with a nervous smile.

Louis smiled radiantly back, ignoring Liam’s stern expression.

“D’you want to come in?” Harry asked, and they both knew that no - he didn’t want to come in, but he would because Liam wanted him to. Harry’d had the decency to text Louis and warn him.

“Liam Payne,” Liam introduced himself, holding a hand to shake. Harry pursed his lips to fight a smile when Louis copied the mood and held his hand out as well.

“Louis Tomlinson, nice to meet you, Liam.”

Liam nodded and looked Louis up and down, taking his time to really scan the older, yet shorter boy. “Your trousers are quite tight, yeah?” he drawled.

“Liam!” Harry hissed as Louis barked out a laugh.

“They are quite tight, yeah,” Louis answered easily. “Makes it harder for horny lads like Harry, here, to get them off of me.” Harry turned his face to the floor to hide his smile from Liam, but he saw the flash in his best friend’s eyes.

“Listen, Tomlinson. You’re older, but I’m bigger and quite stronger, I’m willing to bet. Harry doesn’t need some wanker to come and mess him around, yeah?”

Louis sobered and nodded. “Of course, Liam. Listen, I just fancy him. I’m not here to mess him around. Swear on my life.”

Liam stepped a bit closer. “Your life doesn’t mean too much to me, Tomlinson,” he breathed.

Harry was sure he was going to die. Right there. And muck up his mum’s white carpet. “Alright, that’s enough,” he nearly whimpered. “We’re going to leave, now, thanks for that, Li.”

“Just one second, love,” Louis toned calmly. As Harry blushed at the endearment, Louis stepped even closer, so that he was looking up into Liam’s face, and spoke in a low voice. “I understand you’re concerned about your best mate, Liam. But I’m not sure I appreciate the way you seem to think Harry is unable to take care of himself. He’s strong and more than able, and smart, too. I’m offended for him, but since I’m sure you have your intentions in the right place, I’m going to let it slide. This time.” With that, Louis backed up, shook Liam’s (numb from shock) hand again, and placed a hand at the small of Harry’s back to lead the younger boy out without a glance back to the shocked Liam.

Harry paused as he passed Liam, craning his neck to kiss Liam’s cheek like he’d seen daughters do to their fathers in movies after scenes like this. “Bye, Pop,” Harry whispered against his cheek.

Louis and Harry walked through the door with Liam standing on the other side in stunned silence.

\---

“So,” Louis said cheerfully once they were both in his car, “where’d you decide you wanted to go?”

Harry swallowed nervously. “Erm, Liam said Olive Garden was a good place for a first date. Obviously, I’ve never - been on one, before, so-”

“Harry, love, you don’t need to sound so embarrassed,” Louis chided him fondly. “It’s nothing negative on you; only on the poor, unfortunate souls who never got to know you well enough to make you say yes to a date.” Harry blushed and stammered out a thank you and a small laugh, and Louis continued. “And while that is a fabulous idea for a first date - make sure you tell Daddy Liam thank you for the lovely idea I will be positive to use at a later date, should I be honored enough to be graced with the bountiful dates I desire - I have a better idea.”

“Oh yeah?” Harry managed through laughter at the horribly posh tone Louis was speaking with.

“Yes,” Louis supplied confidently, nodding once with supreme conviction. Harry was sure if he tried to nod like that, he’d hurt the back of his neck, or something.

Louis didn’t comment further after a while, so Harry finally asked, “Well - where are we going, then?”

Louis rolled his eyes and smiled patronizingly. “Ah, young Harold, that which you seek will be revealed in due time.”

“…So you’re telling me to shut up and enjoy the ride?”

Louis looked offended. “Why, I would never insinuate something so rude and impolite to such a lovely young man-friend,” he said dramatically.

Harry rolled his eyes and laughed openly, a high-pitched sound mixed with a witch-cackle that had Louis laughing so hard he actually pulled over to finish laughing. When he pulled back onto the road, Louis raised his eyebrows and said, “Shall we?”

Harry merely raised his eyebrows in question and Louis turned on his CD, blasting Coldplay. Harry smiled serenely as Paradise calmed his First Date Nerves-until he nearly died laughing when Louis started screaming the chorus in a ridiculously off-key, wobbly voice. Harry laughed and sang (in his normal, quiet, scratchy voice).

Harry blames Louis’ face.

He was staring at the older boy (freely, as Louis was driving and therefore watching the road like the responsible driver he actually was), singing to the music happily. Suddenly, Louis shut the music off and stopped singing, listening intently. Harry hadn’t seen Louis turn the music off (because he was too busy ogling as Louis’ freaking face), so he kept singing at a normal volume. Louis’ face lit up, but Harry blushed and stopped singing, laughing to hide his sudden discomfort. He half-heartedly slapped Louis’ arm with the back of his hand. “Rude,” he accused in slight embarrassment.

Louis just smiled widely. “I’ve never heard you sing before,” he reasoned, like it justified it.

Harry laughed shortly, “That’s because I don’t sing in front of people.”

Louis looked at Harry as long as he could without being a reckless driver before smiling and flicking the turn signal on. Harry said nothing, but felt his eyebrows draw together in confusion as he looked out the window.

They were in an empty, black field, just off the shoulder of the road, with a little pond down the slope of the grass. No lights, no buildings, and (as Harry quickly found out as Louis’ car started bumping and rolling) no path.

Finally, Louis stopped the car and looked over at Harry thoughtfully. “Are you hungry right now?” He asked.

Honestly, Harry was kind of hungry, but he thought if he ate right now, he might throw up, so he shook his head.

Louis nodded and got out of the car, jogging around to open up Harry’s door. Harry blushed and got out, pulling his slightly sagging pants up a bit as Louis shut his car door. Louis jerked his head in a sort of ‘follow me’ and started walking, the headlights of his car still beaming brightly, cutting through the darkness.

Louis walked right in front of Harry, giving out random warnings like “Roots sticking up here” and “Wonky rock, be careful” here and there as they made their way down a slope. Finally, the slope plateaued out and Louis slowed, throwing his arms out and sweeping them out, showing Harry the spot he’d picked so wonderfully. “I’ll be right back,” he whispered conspiratorially, leaving Harry to wait alone in the kind-of dark.

His eyes finished adjusting to the surrounding, and Harry realized he really was in a beautiful spot. The trees were full and the water a mere five feet away from where he was standing looked clean and cold. Harry closed his eyes and smiled as he listened to the sound of the water as it ran against the rocks within. He nearly jumped when music started playing, not loud, but loud enough, from Louis’ car speakers. As Harry recognized Ed Sheeran’s voice, he smiled again, eyes slipping shut once more.

Harry opened his eyes when he heard Louis’ footsteps. He turned and immediately closed the distance between them, as Louis was carrying a massive bundle and a wad of something was falling from his arms. Harry caught it and Louis beamed at him. “Thanks for that,” he said. Harry smiled back.

Louis set his bundle down and Harry copied, watching as Louis picked from the bundle a massive blanket. He spread it out on the ground, taking his shoes off and getting to his knees on the blanket before leaning over and picking more things from the bundle. He picked up hand-sized rocks and placed one at each corner of the blanket to hold it down, straightening them until they were just right. Harry’s eyebrows nearly merged together in confusion when he saw Louis neatly re-folding clothes and towels and putting them on a side of the blanket.

Louis looked up at Harry and smiled. “Don’t worry,” he reassured Harry, “It’ll make sense in a little bit.”

Harry nodded and took a breath when Louis patted the blanket, at a close-but-no-pressure-to-fornicate distance from him. Harry toed his shoes off and stepped gingerly on the blanket, folding himself down into sitting Indian-style.

“So,” Louis began. “I have a modified game of Truth or Dare. You can pick whichever you want the first time, but you have to alternate. Keeps the game from getting boring. Wanna play?”

Harry nodded.

“Alright then,” Louis said with a satisfied smile. “Truth or dare.”

Harry thought and decided. “Truth.”

“Ah, I knew you’d say that,” Louis joked. “Alright, hmmm…When did you realize you were gay?”

Harry thought back and answered, “I think it was when Niall had his first kiss. It was a girl, and he was so excited.” He giggled. “He told me and Liam all about it. In disturbing detail. And it really just didn’t sound appealing to me. I started noticing I’d much rather kiss that boy, or that one, or that one,” He explained, gesturing vaguely. He rolled his eyes. “So, I think I was ten or eleven. Something like that.” Louis nodded. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Louis hissed, puffing his chest out. “I’m a man, I can take it.”

Harry grinned. “I dare you to…text your very best mate and tell him…erm…tell him you’re…oh, no! Prank call your very best mate.”

Louis laughed at the excitement in Harry’s voice. “But he’ll only know it’s me; I prank call him all the time.” Harry frowned, and Louis dialed the number. “Alright, alright, I’ll do it.” He put the phone on speaker and waited until Zayn picked up.

“’Lo?” Zayn greeted.

“Hello dere, I’m callin’ t’confirm a delivery for a Zehn Maaalik,” Louis started in a horrible Irish accent. Harry put a hand over his mouth to stifle his giggles and scooted forward, close enough that his knees were touching Louis’.

“What? I didn’t call for deliveries? - Mum, did you call for a delivery? - Who’s this?”

Louis balked, and Harry laughed out loud, hand darting forward and pressing ‘end call’ on Louis’ phone. Louis laughed along with Harry as he stuffed his phone back into his pocket.

Finally, Harry sobered enough to prompt Louis through giggles. “Alright, dare me!”

Louis grinned evilly and thought for a moment. “I dare you to…oh! Phone Liam and tell him you’ve done something really stupid with me.”

Harry gasped, scandalized, before pausing and finally giggling. “He’ll murder me,” he protested through nervous giggles.

Louis shook his head. “No, we can tell him it’s a dare once we’re done, I swear. Just…tell him, like. I took you for a tattoo, or something. Something outrageous.”

Harry grinned and nodded, fumbling with his phone, trying to hide the fact that Liam was his speed dial number two from Louis. He called and put it to speaker. “Liam?” he said when the phone picked up. Louis did a double take when he heard the scared tone Harry had inflected into his voice.

“Harry? Haz, are you alright?!” Liam nearly begged, already anxious.

“Yeah, ‘m fine…I think…erm, Li?”

“….Yeah?”

“Well…Louis…took me to this place-”

“Did he leave you somewhere?!” Liam interrupted, and Harry looked up at Louis to check if he’d heard the fury in Liam’s tone. He had.

“No, no, no,” Harry soothed quickly. “It’s just - d’you think you could borrow Nicola’s concealer, or something, for the next few days?”

Pause. “Why?”

Harry covered his mouth with his hand for a second, squeezing his eyes shut before bringing the phone closer. “We’ve-gone-to-get-tattoos-and-I-don’t-want-Mum-to-find-out,” he rushed out.

“WHAT?!” Liam shouted through the phone. “I’m going to murder that idiot! Harry, what the fuck is wrong with you, why would y-”

“Only joking, Li, sorry mate. It was a dare, I love you! Be home later,” Harry rushed before shutting his phone off. Louis burst into laughter and Harry followed behind, groaning as he laughed. “He’s going to massacre me!”

“Don’t worry,” Louis said between laughs, “I’ll fight for you.”

“Liam boxes.”

“I’ll get all my mates and we’ll just form a protective wall, then,” he corrected himself with a smirk. Harry snorted. “Alright,” he said, flopping down onto the blanket. “Truth me, Harry,” he commanded in a silly tone.

Harry smiled and paused before asking, “Do your parents know you’re gay?”

Louis smirked. “Well, my real dad doesn’t. But my step-dad - Mark, he raised me - knows, and my mum. I tell my mum everything, and Mark…he sort of walked in on me with an ex. Well he wasn’t an ex at the time, but…erm. Yeah.”

Harry tried to stifle his giggles and Louis laughed and told Harry he could, too. “It was embarrassing,” he said, “and he kind of freaked out. Went insane...but I'm pretty sure we’re over it, now.” He looked thoughtful and finally asked Harry, “What’s your biggest sexual fantasy?”

Harry barked out a squeaky laugh in surprise, blushing to the roots of his hair and the tips of his toes. “Erm, I - well, I’ve seen on - in some…movies…where there’s kind of a more - dominant one? And the other - other guy is a bit…less. Kind of like. Just - _takes_ it, whatever the other guy wants…” He trailed off awkwardly, and Louis’ eyes widened.

“D’you wanna be the dominant one or the submissive one?” He asked, his voice a little deeper and huskier than usual. It made Harry’s stomach drop.

“Erm. Kind of…both,” he confessed. “Like, I wanted to - erm.” He coughed and flicked his hair, eyes suddenly interested in the blanket underneath his fingers. “To try, both. Of them. Just to see. I - I think I would like the…submissive one? I think I’d like that a bit more. But maybe trying the…dominant bit…later. Once I know what I’m doing, I mean.” _Kill me now. Just let me die. Let me drown in this lake. Let me roll off the blanket and into the lake and die._

Louis cleared his throat and swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing. “That’s - erm…that’s quite a fantasy,” he said hoarsely.

They sat in silence, Louis willing his complete erection to go away, and Harry willing himself to suddenly die. Finally, Louis said, “Dare me.”

Harry huffed out a surprised laugh and said, “Go swimming.”

Louis narrowed his eyes, but he stood up and started stripping. “Well this works easier,” he said, mostly to himself. Harry looked up at him questioningly, and Louis said, “I dare you to join me.”

Harry blushed and looked over to the clothes, suddenly realizing what they were for. “You wanted to swim?” He asked. Louis nodded, so Harry stood up and started stripping to his briefs, like Louis. They ran into the water, which was freezing (“Stupidest idea I’ve ever had!”), and only stayed in for a few minutes before they both ran out. Louis passed Harry a towel and a complete set of clothes, and then immediately got to changing his own clothes.

“Hurry and change and get in the car,” he told Harry through laughter and chattering teeth. Harry nodded and slid off his boxers, patting and rubbing himself dry and half-warm before sliding on clothes that were a bit tight but fit otherwise.

They left their wet clothes and the rest of their things on the blanket and started running towards Louis’ headlights, giggling and shouting a little too loud. Louis grabbed onto Harry’s hand, palm flat against palm, and Harry reveled in the warmth. It wasn’t until Louis opened Harry’s door that the older boy even realized what he was doing, and he smiled to himself that Harry had let him hold his hand.

They warmed up and ate in Louis’ car, listening to Ed Sheeran with the head on blast. Once they warmed up, they walked back down and picked up their things, placing it all in Louis’ trunk.

As Louis drove home, Harry wedged his hand under Louis’ until Louis smiled and intertwined their fingers over the gearshift. “I might get used to this,” Louis warned.

Harry blushed and nodded. “I hope so.”


	4. Part 4.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Louis hates his dad and Harry hugs him.

The past four weeks had been even more Harry-centric than usual.

Five days a week (Monday-Friday), Harry and Louis stayed after school at least three hours a night to practice. On Saturdays, Louis met Harry up at the field in the early mornings to practice for a few hours. On Sundays, Louis took Harry on a date.

  
The Monday after their first date hadn’t been all that awkward. Louis only ever caught glimpses of Harry, but the curly-haired boy looked ecstatic as he chatted with Liam and Niall. Liam looked a bit relieved - only a little sour, in fact - and Niall looked as interested as could be. That whole week, they practiced like normal, not talking about their date. However, Louis caught Harry smiling at him for no particular reason during their breaks more than once. On Saturday morning, Louis asked Harry on a second date. Harry had blushed furiously and nodded, touching Louis’ fingers before he got out and walked into his house.

True to his word, Louis took Harry to Olive Garden on their second date, and Harry held his hand in the car the way there. They had a nice dinner, and Louis took Harry to the movies. Louis had tried the not-so-subtly ‘stretch and put my arm around you’, but Harry had tensed up.

  
“Harry?” Louis whispered. Harry looked sideways at him, fidgeting. “Touch?” Louis asked quietly. Harry nodded, and Louis moved his arm away, feeling awkward. “Sorry,” he whispered.

Harry smiled, though, and touched his hand with lingering fingers, squeezing before he turned his attention back to the screen. It wasn’t awkward after that. And Harry touched his hand in the car until Louis smiled and slid his fingers in between Harry’s.

On their third date, Louis took Harry ice skating. They were both okay, but neither were exactly ready to be Olympiads. They both fell quite often. Once, when Harry was about to fall, Louis grabbed his hand as a reflex to keep him up. Harry stayed up that time, and Louis let go of his hand, thinking surely Harry wasn’t ready to hold his hand in public. But then Louis had fallen, and Harry grabbed his hand to help him up. Once Louis was securely standing, Harry didn’t let go, and the two skated together for the rest of the night.

On their fourth date, Louis took Harry to see The Script in concert. Harry had jumped up and down like a madman in his cleats on the field, and Louis was definitely glad he’d waited until Saturday morning to tell Harry. On the way to the concert, Harry revealed that he’d always wanted to go to concerts, but never had the money. Louis let slip without meaning to that his parents were sort of filthy rich, so he got tickets like this all the time. Harry became a bit self-conscious, but Louis reassured him. “It doesn’t matter,” he immediately said. “I’m not rich, anyway; my dad is. He gives me things to sort of…shut me up and shovel me off so he doesn’t have to figure out what to do with me.” Harry was reassured by Louis’ quiet confession and reached out to touch Louis’ cheek. Louis smiled a little, and the mood was lightened again.

  
The Script came out and played an hour-and-a-half set, and Harry sang along to all the songs. He made Louis sing, too, and Louis didn’t know when, but amidst the jumping and the singing, in the dark, in the pit of the concert, Harry’s hand had slipped into his and was squeezing tight.

“I really have gotten used to this, you know,” Louis said, squeezing Harry’s hand as he drove his kind-of boyfriend home from another day of practice.

Harry blushed mightily but nodded all the same. “I really like it,” he smiled. “It’s - nice.”

  
Louis agreed. When he pulled into Harry’s drive, he squeezed Harry’s hand before letting go. “I’ll…see you tomorrow, then,” he said with a smile, eyes devouring Harry’s face.

“You could-” Harry took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second. Louis was dying to know what Harry was about to say; Harry usually just said ‘see you, then’ and got out.

“My mum’s not home,” Harry finally said, voice shaky despite his attempts. Louis’ breath caught, and Harry continued. “You could - come in, if you wanted. We could…watch a film, or. Or something. I don’t know.”

Louis was having extreme difficulty making his mouth say ‘yes’, and Harry seemed to have misinterpreted it as reluctance.

“Right, stupid,” he said, blushing. “Right, then. I - I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” He touched Louis’ hand gently and moved to open the door.

“Alright,” Louis blurted out finally.

Harry looked back hopefully. “Yeah? You want to come in?” Louis nodded, and Harry bit his lip. Louis could guess.

“I’m not expecting anything,” he said gently. “Just a film, yeah? Or you could cook me dinner. I’d like that,” he grinned cheekily.

Harry smiled and nodded, grabbing his bag and getting out of the car. They both walked up to Harry’s front door, and Louis grabbed the door and held it for Harry, who blushed before muttering, “Thank you,” and walking in.

When the door was shut, Harry seemed to relax, completely in his element. He smiled and easily grabbed Louis’ hand. “So, entry hall, obviously,” he mumbled, waving his hand in the small hallway. He walked down the hall, where it opened in all directions. “Living room,” he pointed forward, “kitchen and dining room,” he said, pointing to the left, “stairs, bathroom, laundry room, all that,” he finished, pointing right. “To the kitchen.” He pulled Louis along and into the kitchen, which wasn’t as big as his own, but looked much more used. Actually, nothing in Harry’s house was as big or pretty, but nothing in Louis’ house looked at all used. Louis definitely preferred Harry’s home.

“So, what did you want?” Harry asked as Louis looked around with comfort.

Louis’ stomach growled and they both laughed. “I think my stomach will eat anything you give it, honestly,” Louis laughed out. Harry set about making fiesta lime chicken (“Honestly, Harry, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich would have done fine,” Louis protested), and they joked and laughed and flirted shamelessly. Louis let Harry toss bits of a chocolate bar into his mouth, even though he missed most of the time ("I play football, not baseball, or something,” Harry defended himself when Louis laughed at his horrible aim), and while the chicken was boiling, they sat on opposite ends of the little bar in the kitchen, holding hands and talking.

“Smells, good, H,” they both heard Niall call, and Louis had just let go of Harry’s hand when Harry grabbed it again.

“It’s alright,” he whispered, swallowing. Louis knew this was a pretty big step - that Niall hadn’t even known Harry liked guys before Louis. He smiled and squeezed Harry’s hand encouragingly.

“Oh,” Niall said when he walked into the kitchen and saw them together.

“Y’alright, mate?” Louis asked casually. “Greg’s brother, right?”

“Niall, yeah,” Niall answered, looking between the two. He stepped forward and shook Louis’ hand, and then rocked back on his heels. “Well, erm, I was just stopping by, but…” he trailed off, clearly trying to figure out if they wanted him gone or not.

Louis looked at Harry and smiled, and then Harry said, “’S fine. D’you want some chicken, too?”

Harry stood up without waiting for the answer, which was a snort from Niall, accompanied with, “What a dumb question.”

Niall sat down in the chair next to Harry’s as Harry went about making more chicken for Niall. Louis watched in disbelief as Harry put in four chicken breasts. When Louis looked back at Niall, the Irish lad was laughing. “I eat a lot,” he explained. “I eat more than Liam, Harry, and his mum put together.”

Louis was impressed and laughed, and Harry came back to the table and sat. They chatted and Harry served their chicken, and they ate in comfortable silence until Niall decided to ask, “So, I heard you’ve met Liam?”

Louis laughed loudly and Harry groaned, thumping his head on the table. “That was so embarrassing,” he moaned against the wood.

Louis reached out and tousled Harry’s curls comfortingly, missing the way Niall’s eyes noticed the gesture. “It wasn’t so bad,” Louis said, placating. “He’s just really protective of his best mate. I’m protective of Zayn.”

Niall choked on his drink, spewing a bit out. He mopped it up with the napkins at the bar and then (not-so) casually asked, “Zayn? Malik? He’s your best mate?”

Louis could tell Niall was trying to be offhand, but he saw the blush on the younger lad’s pale skin. “Yeah,” Louis said casually, taking a drink. He glanced at Harry, who was currently smiling down at the table and squeezing his hand to the point of pain. “Yeah, he is. D’you know him?”

Niall blushed scarlet (almost as bright as Harry) but otherwise remained pretty cool about it. “I’ve heard of him, yeah.”

Louis nodded. “Yeah, he’s a great bloke. Gayer than Perez Hilton, though.” This time, both Niall and Harry choked in their drinks, and Louis suppressed his laugh with difficulty.

“He’s gay?” Niall asked urgently.

Louis smiled inwardly. _Nailed it_ , he thought. “Yeah. Been single for a while, now, come to think of it…pretty surprising. I guess nobody in our year catches his attention.”

Niall nodded, like he didn’t really care, but it was only a few more minutes of fidgeting that Niall excused himself. “Great chicken, Harry,” he said, pushing his chair in, “but I’ve just remembered I’ve - I’ve got to go. So…see you tomorrow.”

Harry nodded around a smile, keeping his face that way until they both heard the front door shut. Harry burst out laughing, ridiculously loud, and Louis joined him. “How’d you know?” Harry asked through peals of laughter.

Louis looked at him, jaw dropped. “Come _on_ ,” he said, laughing. “You mean to tell me you didn’t expect me to pick that up?” Harry shook his head and returned his fork to his mouth. “It was obvious. You _saw_ the way he perked up when I mentioned Zayn, right?”

Harry nodded, still giggling gently. “But I already knew he fancied Zayn.”

Louis took out his phone. “Better text him, by the way. Let him know to keep an eye out for a little Irishman in your year.”

Harry waited patiently until Louis sent the message before asking, “How many of your friends know about me?”

Louis paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. “You mean about me practicing with you or me taking you out on dates every weekend?” he asked. He shrugged. “Zayn and my mum know everything. Stan knows I’ve been taking you out, but not that I’ve been practicing with you - remember, I told you I wouldn’t tell him until you get the position - and basically anyone else with eyes knows I fancy you.”

“Really?” Harry asked curiously.

Louis nodded. “Oh, yeah. I don’t exactly keep things secret. I don’t have anything to hide. I’m proud of who I am and who I fancy.”

“But people don’t - they don’t think you’re weird for liking me?” Harry asked, a blush forming.

Louis’ brows furrows. “Why would they? Because you’re a guy?” He shook his head. “Everyone in school's used to the idea of me being gay. People just know. And everyone thinks you’re fit, so…”

Harry laughed quietly, and then bit his lip. “But I’m…weird. Everyone thinks I’m weird.”

Louis was truly angry, now. “Who calls you weird?” He demanded. “That’s ridiculous. Harry, you’re not weird, or strange, or anything bad they say you are,” he said firmly. “And I better not hear of anyone giving you any trouble, or I swear I’ll take care of it myself.”

Harry smiled and traced Louis’ hands with his fingertips. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself, Lou,” he laughed. “It’s alright.”

Louis looked down at their hands and noticed the time on his watch. He jumped up from his chair. “Sorry, love. I’m supposed to meet my dad; I have to go.” He knew Harry could tell he was troubled by meeting with his dad, but he didn’t want to talk about it yet. He started walking to the door, and Harry followed.

“Are you alright?” Harry asked, and Louis heard the concern in his voice.

“Yeah, I’m - okay,” he answered. He reached the door and paused.

Harry grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “I’ll see you later, alright? My door’s always open. Even if my mum’s home,” he added with a small smile. “Come over whenever.”

Louis smiled and leaned his forehead against Harry’s, closing his eyes. He knew Harry probably didn’t know what to do with this closeness, but he just needed it. “Alright. Thanks. I’ll see you later.” With that, he opened the door and walked out, jogging to his car and speeding off. He didn’t notice Harry watching from the front porch with concern.

\---

“It’s come to my attention that you haven’t been going out anymore,” Louis’ Dad said over their dinner. Louis had already eaten at Harry’s, so he just had tea.

“That’s not really true,” Louis argued. “I’ve not been home before six for weeks. And I’m out on weekends, too.”

“But you’re not partying anymore,” his dad said.

Louis deflated a little. “On Saturdays, sometimes. Just - I’ve been…busy. With someone.”

Louis’ dad finally looked interested. “You have a new girlfriend?” He asked.

Louis hesitated before he shook his head. “No, we’re not dating. Well, we are, technically, but - we don’t have the label tacked on.”

“And you’ve been spending a lot of time with this girl, am I right?” Louis hesitated again. “What’s her name, son?”

Louis hated that. _Son_. It was true that Mark had been around most of Louis' life, but Louis still hated being called that. “It’s a guy, Dad.”

Louis’ dad stopped short. “You’re gay?”

Louis saw the menacing glare on his father’s face but nodded all the same. “You’ve got to be the only one who hasn’t noticed by now,” he said quietly, looking into his tea.

“What’s his name?” his father demanded. Louis shook his head. “Louis, what is his name?”

“Why, so you can track him down and make him finish with me? No, I’m not telling you.”

Louis’ dad sighed. “Always so dramatic. Louis, I don’t care; I was just curious.” Louis looked up, stunned that his father gave a shit for once and hardly daring to believe it. “But you have to end it.”

 _No_. Of course his father hadn’t changed at all. “I won’t,” Louis said firmly. His father started to object, but Louis interrupted him. “I won’t do it. I really care about him. I’m not going to let you ruin this relationship.”

“Louis, I have a business to keep. How do you think my colleagues are going to react to the news that their president has a gay son?”

Louis stared at his father angrily. “Why would they? It’s not as if you ever mention me or my sisters, or my mum. You certainly aren’t around enough to know anything. If I wouldn’t have told you, you’d have never known.” Louis started to stand, but his father gripped his wrist.

“End it, Louis.” With that, he let go of Louis’ wrist. Louis stood and quietly pushed his chair in, knowing that despite how angry he was, he couldn’t make a scene without jeopardizing the rest of his family. He quietly and swiftly walked away from the swanky restaurant with a tight smile on his face for the other customers in the place.

\---

 _Knock, knock_. Louis didn’t know what he was doing here. He should have just gone home. _Knock, knock_.

Before he could back out, the door opened and revealed Harry’s gorgeous mother. Louis recognized her from the hospital - she was one of his mother’s most regular patients: always coming back for routine check-ups and follow-ups when she was supposed to. Anne was his mother’s best patient. She was tired, clearly, but she smiled happily enough when she opened the door wider. “Louis, come on in!” She said. When she took in his face, she frowned. “Are you alright? Should I call your mother?”

“No!” Louis blurted before he could answer casually. Anne frowned. “No, I’m - could I just talk to Harry for a minute?” he asked, knowing it was ridiculously late. Anne must have just gotten home. Surely she just wanted to go to sleep. “I’m so sorry to be here so late, but - could I just see Harry, please?”

  
Anne watched him curiously, and Louis could practically see the wheels turning as she took in his frazzled, emotional appearance. Finally, she nodded. “Harry,” she softly called up the stairs. “You have company.” She looked to Louis and nodded towards the stairs. “Second door to your left, upstairs.”

Louis thanked her and toed off his shoes, dashing up the stairs. When he got to the second level, Harry was just coming out of his room. “Lou?” he asked, surprised. He took in Louis’ appearance and reacted the same way as his mum had. “Are you alright? Do - should I call your mum, or something? What - Zayn? What do you need?” He rushed forward and grabbed Louis’ hand, dragging him backward into his room.

When he shut the door behind Louis, Harry turned and dragged Louis over to his bed. They both sat down, and Harry sat close next to him, their knees touching as they faced each other with their legs crossed in front of them. “Louis, what-”

Louis interrupted. “Listen, you know we’re together all the time, right?”

“Yes…?” Harry answered hesitantly, obviously wondering what Louis had hit his head on.

“Well - if - if when we’re not together, someone comes up to you and starts asking about me, I need you to - I need you to lie. Say we’re not together, say you just play football with me, say you’re not gay. Alright? Please.”

Harry was getting upset, and Louis could see it. “You said just earlier you weren’t ashamed of me, or yourself. What made you - why did you change your mind? D’you want to finish with me?”  
  
“ _No_!” Louis protested immediately. “God, Harry, you’re - you’re my favorite. I know that sounds stupid, but you’re my favorite everything, okay? I’ve never been embarrassed about you, and I never will be. Just - look, listen, alright? I never talked to you about my dad. Not a lot, anyway.”  
  
Harry nodded and grabbed Louis’ hand, knowing his dad was a sore subject always. Louis squeezed Harry’s hand and brought it up to his face, pressing it there. He didn’t know why, but it was comforting. Harry didn’t seem to mind, at least.

“Listen, my dad’s dangerous. Not like, evil, or he might hurt anyone kind of dangerous, but. To us, to our relationship, to me and you - he’s dangerous. He’s the owner of all these big companies and he’s the president of basically everything in this town, right? And he - he doesn’t want to have a gay son.”

Harry looked angry; if it were in different circumstances it would actually take Louis’ focus away because _wow_ , that was fucking adorable. “But you can’t help being gay!” He said angrily. “It’s not your fault! And he’s a bad father, right? So what - what does he have anything to do with you being gay? He doesn’t get to have a say in that!"

Louis smiled tightly and, with his free hand, cupped Harry’s cheek, rubbing it with his thumb. Harry’s breath hitched and Louis dropped it with a quiet sigh. “I just - I don’t want him trying to find you. I don’t want him to find you and tell you awful things and make you finish with me, alright? You’re my favorite; I don’t want him to ruin it.”

“Louis…” Harry started, a little spooked. “You haven’t - you haven’t done anything, right? Like, you’ve never done anything bad, I mean he’s not going to come up and spout off your criminal record, or something, is he?”

“What? No, of course not!” Louis said, squeezing his hand. “But my dad’s really good at manipulating. He manipulated his way out of his marriage with my mum; he manipulates my sisters. He’s manipulated me for far too long. I just - I don’t want him to manipulate you, too.”

Harry nodded slowly. “He doesn’t know how to find me, right?”

“No,” Louis reassured him. “No, I didn’t tell him your name, or anything like that. Just that we’ve been spending a lot of time together. Before I realized he didn’t want me with you.”

Harry blew out his breath. “Well, looks like I’ll never have your father’s blessing, will I?” he said, trying to make a joke.

When Louis’ mouth quivered, Harry pulled him closer, into his lap. “’M sorry, that was a stupid joke. Come here, come here, shhh, it’s alright,” he whispered. Louis wrapped his arms and legs around Harry and put his head on his shoulder. When Harry felt Louis’ body wrack with sobs of tears unshed, he just held him tighter.

After about half an hour, Harry disentangled himself with a quick, “Just a second, alright?” he walked out of his room and across the hall, and Louis listened as he knocked quietly on a door before he opened it.

“Mum, Louis’ spending the night, alright?” Harry asked quietly.

Louis heard Anne ask something about him being alright, and Harry responded, “He’ll be alright, he’s got everything. Just had a fight with his parents. We’ll be up in time for school, don’t worry. …Love you, too. Night.”

Louis was standing, fidgeting, when Harry came back into his room. “You really don’t have to; I can go home if-”

Louis shut up when Harry shushed him and wrapped his arms around Louis tightly, rocking slightly and rubbing his back with his big hands. “It’s fine, Lou. Come on. Do you want to - you can use my toothbrush, if that doesn’t gross you out. I don’t mind, either way. My mum’s contact things are behind the mirror, and you can sleep in your boxers. I don’t wear night clothes, usually, so. Sorry.”

He pointed Louis into the bathroom, and Louis brushed his teeth quickly and washed his face before he took out his contacts. He came back and took off his trousers and shirt, noticing Harry blatantly staring at his body. Louis blushed and then gawked when Harry took off his own shirt and trousers. He was more defined than Harry, and typically Louis went for guys who were more defined than himself. But Harry was still very much fifteen, with a bit of a tummy and a never-ending torso that stayed pretty much flat and uncut. Louis was completely blown away by how much he loved this body.

Harry blushed at his staring. “’S not much, I know,” he began, but Louis ignored it.

“You’re fifteen, Harry; you shouldn’t look like a twenty-year-old body builder. I love it. You look great.” He bit his lip before warning Harry: “I’m - I’m a really cuddly sleeper; I don’t mind staying on the floor, or the couch, or something.”

Harry scoffed. “So ‘m I. Don’t worry about it, alright?” He laid down in the bed and scooted against the wall, hissing a little when his bare skin touched the cool wall. Then he held up the duvet and opened his arms wide. “Come on,” he invited.

Louis sniffed away the rest of his tears and flicked off the light switch before he joined Harry, burrowing into his neck and wrapping an arm around his waist. Both of Harry’s arms settled around his back, and their legs tangled together. Louis was sure he’d never laid with someone in such an intimate way, and he was secretly glad he was doing this with Harry, and not Zayn or Stan or something.

“Do you lay like this with Liam or Niall?” He couldn’t help but wonder, glad that Harry couldn’t see his blush.

Harry’s breathing hitched when Louis talked against his collarbone, but he answered eventually, “No. I don’t let Niall sleep with me because he moves and kicks too much, and Liam just curls up in a ball and pushes me away during the night. ‘S just you.” Louis knew Harry was happy about it, too, because Harry’s arms tightened around him. “Good night, Lou,” he whispered.

“Night, Harry.”

“…Hey, Lou?”

“Yeah?”

“…Don’t listen to anything your father says. Dads are stupid, anyway.”

“Yeah? …What happened to yours?”

Harry yawned. “I’ll tell you in the morning, alright?”

“Alright. Sleep tight.”

“You, too."

\---

In the morning, Harry’s alarm went off with what gave him adequate time to get ready and look good for school, but Louis typically woke up nearly an hour earlier.

He yelped at the clock and used Harry’s shower while Harry used his mum’s shower, and ended up stuffing a beanie over his hair because he didn’t have time to style it correctly. He wore Harry’s tightest jeans, which were both too long and not tight enough for his liking, so he ended up in American Eagle sweatpants and Harry’s purple Jack Wills hoodie. Harry, naturally, looked great in black skinny jeans and a plain white T-shirt, necklaces dangling and a blazer over his arm.

Liam and Niall walked right in (Liam apparently had a key), calling in a loud whisper up the stairs to Harry. Harry heard and rushed downstairs to make breakfast, and Louis hesitated, unsure if they were supposed to know he was there. Of course, his car was parked in the drive…

“Louis’ upstairs; Niall, would you go tell him to hurry up?” He heard Harry quietly tell Niall.

Before Niall could finishing bounding up the stairs (seriously, why would Harry pick Niall to come upstairs? He was sure to wake Anne up), Louis ghosted down the stairs and met him halfway. Niall smiled and turned right around and walked into the kitchen, where Liam was helping Harry cook breakfast, apparently in some kind of altercation.

“…Had a really rough night and we’re together, Liam, and I care about him. I didn’t even give him a choice to stay or leave. I practically took his keys from his hands.” Harry turned just then and smiled radiantly at him. “Eggs or bacon or both?”

“Whatever’s easier,” Louis replied, and Harry rolled his eyes and looked at Niall. “Both,” they said together, grinning.

Harry and Liam served their food up and when Harry came around to Louis’ seat, Louis halfway opened his arms, offering a hug. Harry smiled and hugged him tight, a hand only sliding down to grip his when they broke apart. They ate quickly and in half-silence before Louis cleared his throat. “I could give you guys a ride today? I mean, I have to drive, anyway. I can’t just leave it here; Anne might decide she wants my car more than I do.” Harry smiled and looked around. Niall was nodding through his mouthfuls, and Liam met Harry’s eyes before he, too nodded.

“That’d be really nice, thanks,” he said politely. Louis nodded but internally frowned. Did Liam still not trust him?

Louis didn’t even care, because Harry was now not only holding his hand in front of his friends; Harry was _hugging him_. The thought made Louis grin brightly, like an idiot. But Harry clearly felt the same way, if his big dimpled grin was anything to go by. They all piled into Louis’ Porsche and drove to school, thankfully getting there on time. Harry squeezed Louis’ hand before they got out of the car and went their separate ways to their classes.


	5. Part 5.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Louis and Harry are dating, Harry's mum finds out, Zayn likes Niall, and Liam accept Louis.

“So, are you and Louis together, or…what?” Niall asked at lunch.

Harry looked up from his pizza and shrugged. “I dunno,” he answered truthfully, glancing at his two best friends in earnest. He blushed faintly before smiling. “We-I hugged him. Last night.”

Niall looked positively thrilled, and Liam looked confused. “What ever happened last night, Harry?” He asked. “He just popped in, and ended up staying the night?”

Harry took a bite of his pizza long enough to give Liam a slightly withering look, getting tired of his contempt towards Louis. “He had a really rough meeting with his dad, Liam,” Harry said, and Liam stopped short. Liam knew that, if anything would wear Harry down, it’d be dad problems. He nodded, and Harry relaxed a bit.

“Sorry,” Liam muttered.

Harry smiled a bit and swept a thumb over Liam’s fingers. “’S alright,” he mumbled back. “Just gotta stop worrying about me, yeah? Louis won’t do anything I’m not ready for.”

Liam swallowed tightly and nodded a bit, and Harry almost felt bad for asking Liam to relax. Harry knew Liam looked at him like a little brother, as well as a best friend. Liam had always been there to protect Harry, and this was Harry’s biggest…adventure…yet. Of course Liam would feel like he was supposed to protect. Harry took a mental note to take it easy and be more understanding with Liam.

\---

“Styles! I like your improvement. Keep it up, and I might have to convince Coach to let you get your cleats dirty,” Stan joked at practice.

Harry beamed and looked down, pushing his elastic hairband up to keep his curls out of his face as he furiously moved around. He got tripped up a few times, and Louis was definitely using his knowledge of Harry’s weaker points to steal the ball. _Of course_ Stan would pair Louis and Harry up - but Harry wasn’t going to be distracted by Louis. He wasn’t. (He was, but only a few times. Louis got distracted more than Harry did.)

When the practice was over, Harry was still dribbling around a ball when he realized his throat was on fire. He left the football where it was and started jogging towards the locker room, where Louis and Stan were still conversing about the practice.

“… _blue balls_ , I swear,” Stan was saying to Louis.

Harry paused by the door when he heard his name.

“It’s not like that with Harry, mate,” Louis answered firmly. Stan snorted disbelievingly, and Louis continued. “I mean, yeah, I feel like I’m wanking every five fucking seconds, whenever he’s not around, but…it’s not like that. I’m not - I really fancy him, Stan.”

Harry held his breath and Stan continued. “I just don’t see why you’re sticking around. It’s been…what - three months, now? And you haven’t even _kissed_ , man! C’mon, where’s the Lou who was always just down for a hole to fuck?”

Harry blushed, despite the sinking feeling in his stomach, but Louis answered hotly, “Stan. It’s not. Like. That. I’m really into him, and if he wants to wait, we’ll wait. If my balls turn blue and then purple and then black and eventually fall off, well…then I’ll never run the risk of getting anyone pregnant with a kid I’m not ready for, right?”

Stan laughed. “Whatever, mate. I guess it’s just weird to see you with patience. Are you guys even officially dating yet?”

Louis paused, and Harry inched closer to finally hear Louis answer, “No, not yet. I mean. We haven’t said it. We go out every weekend; we’re together literally every day for a few hours at least. I mean…he hasn’t met my family, or anything, and I haven’t met his, like, officially…why?”

Stan let out a groan. “You’re not even _dating_ , Lou! You’re not even _exclusive_. Why aren’t you off getting tail when you’re not with Harry? He can’t be mad; he’s not your boyfriend!”

Harry jumped as he heard a locker slam, and Louis mutter, “Stan, I’m gonna go and shoot a few goals. I’ll lock up. …See you later.”

Harry jumped as Louis rounded the corner of the locker room entrance and saw Harry, having obviously been eavesdropping. He smirked (not unkindly) and folded his arms over his chest. “Hear anything you liked?” he asked, laughter barely disguised. His smirk dropped when Harry just looked down at his cleats. “…Harry?”

Harry shook his head ‘no’ and shuffled his feet momentarily before walking swiftly back to the field. He kicked the ball around, but finally he gave up and sat down on the bench off to the side, staring down at his feet in silence. He looked up when Louis’ cleats edged into his field of vision.

“Harry?” Louis hedged uncertainly. “You…did you hear something you _didn't_ like?”

Harry bit his lip long enough for Louis to sit down on the grass in front of him. “Why aren’t you going out and getting - getting laid from someone else?” he blurted out, finally.

Louis took a sharp breath and put his hands over Harry’s cleats, squeezing the leather gently. “I - erm -I don’t-”

“’Cause you can, if you want,” Harry interrupted, ignoring the twisting and burning at his stomach that distinctly said _no_. He looked down at his lap again but continued. “I mean, I - I wouldn’t _like_ it, but I - seems like it really sucks to go without, and…it’s been a while, if you haven’t had anyone since we’ve been together. …And it’ll probably be a while before you do. From me, at least.”

Louis swallowed. “I  - I didn’t know…I didn’t think of it,” he finally managed to choke out.

Harry nodded. “Well, it - I mean, you - you can. If…if that’s what you need.”

Louis didn’t answer, and finally Harry sighed and stood up. “D’you mind if we skip practice today?” he said, sounding tired. “I’m just not… I’m not really in the mood…” he trailed off and started walking towards the locker room and changed, not waiting for an answer.

When Harry was changing his shirt, he heard Louis enter the room behind him. “Harry?” he asked uncertainly.

Harry turned a bit, reaching for his clean shirt, and looked over at Louis.

“Harry, I - I’m not going out and getting laid because I don’t…I don’t want to be going out and getting laid.”

Harry snorted. “My luck,” he muttered, feeling awful. “I’m such a cold fish you don’t even have a _libido_ anymore.” He tugged his shirt on moodily and reached tugged his sweaty shorts off. He was startled when Louis laughed loudly in the echoing room.

“Harry,” Louis said through a chuckle, “you’re anything but a cold fish. And trust me - my sex drive is perfectly healthy and very much present and in-gear.” He stopped laughing and his face softened up as he reached out and touched Harry’s face, trailing down the younger boy’s cheekbones. “But I only want it from you, and you’re not ready for that, and I’m certainly not going to push or rush you; I don’t need to. If I’m the one you choose, it’ll be wonderful, no matter how long it’s been.”

Harry blushed under the touch and words. He leaned forward and hugged Louis hesitantly, relaxing into it when Louis hugged back. “You’re sure?” Harry asked, still worried about Louis.

Louis chuckled and nodded. “I’m sure. I don’t cheat, alright?”

Harry’s eyes opened a little bit and he pulled back from the hug. “But Stan said it wouldn’t be cheating, because we’re not…y’know. Together.”

Louis’ eyebrows knit closer and he frowned. “Is that what you’re after? D’you want to be my boyfriend?”

“No!” Harry rushed, and Louis’ eyes nearly flew off his head and through the roof. “I mean - I mean, _yes_ , I want to, but - I wasn’t after anything. I just wanted to - to know…like, basically - like what we are, really.” His fingers wiggled and clenched nervously by his side, the movement drawing Louis’ attention. “I - if you don’t want to - be my boyfriend, I mean - like, you don’t have to.”

Louis pulled Harry in slowly and hugged him, tucking his face into the crook of Harry’s neck. He could hear Harry’s pulse, skin pressed against his ear, and he breathed out slowly. “I want to be your boyfriend, Harry. Can we be boyfriends?”

At the feeling of Louis’ lips against his skin, Harry felt his heart race and breathing kick up a notch, and Harry tensed at the feeling. Louis’ lips were still pressed against his neck, and it was sending shivers and shocks through his whole body. The feeling was weird, and overwhelming, and a bit frightening if Harry was being honest, but he really didn’t want to ruin the moment. Louis’d said they were _boyfriends_.

But of course, Louis noticed. “Touch?” he whispered, and Harry didn’t answer for a second before, finally, he nodded reluctantly against Louis’ shoulder.

Louis sighed a bit as he backed off, but he grabbed Harry’s hand and smiled. “So…I’ll change, and take you home, yeah?”

Harry nodded, still blushing from having a _boyfriend_ , and Louis smiled and turned to his own locker.

While Louis’ back was turned, Harry quickly whipped out his phone and typed in Niall and Liam’s numbers _. Louis asked me out!!_

\---

“You sure have adjusted to hugging me quickly,” Louis observed as Harry breathed out heavily after having put dinner in and cleaned the living room. Louis had pulled Harry in by the hand and held him tightly, and Harry didn’t even hesitate.

Now, Harry nodded against Louis’ shoulder. “’Ve done it before,” he said, words muffled horribly by Louis’ sweater.

“What was that?” Louis asked in amusement, pulling back slightly.

Harry huffed out and repeated, “I’ve hugged people before. Hug Liam, sometimes. Niall likes hugs - when we first met, thought he was gonna suffocate me. And my mum, of course.”

Louis nodded thoughtfully. “Well, you give good hugs,” he added, just to watch Harry turn pink.

The timer on the stove went off and Harry sighed, lamenting the end to the moment. Harry went and took the dinner out of the oven and stirred the sauce, turning off the burners when he finished. “Mum’ll be home any minute,” he said off-handedly to Louis as they both plopped down on the couch. Harry leaned his head back and closed his eyes, and Louis turned to he was facing Harry and tucked his feet underneath him. “I can feel you staring at me,” Harry murmured through a smirk, but Louis didn’t answer.

Harry picked his head up and looked towards Louis, eyes widening when he saw the intense stare Louis was giving. Louis softened his features and brought a hand up to cup Harry’s face. Harry’s breathing got shallower as Louis’ thumb caressed across his lips, fingers gliding against his temple and down his jaw.

“You’re so beautiful, Harry,” Louis whispered, smiling at the heat under his fingers as Harry blushed at the compliment. “Handsome, I should say,” he corrected himself before dropping his hand to Harry’s lap, curling his fingers in between Harry’s. They sat in silence, each looking at each other - really taking in each other’s faces – until Harry spoke again.

“D’you wanna meet my mum? Like – I mean, I know you’ve met her already. I meant – do you want to meet her, like…as my boyfriend? Do…do boyfriends do that?” Louis smiled slowly, and Harry flushed hotly. “I don’t know how to do this boyfriend thing,” he began, defensive, but Louis pulled Harry slowly to lean against his shoulder.

“I’d love to meet your mum. As your boyfriend,” he said, letting his nose skim along Harry’s curls.

“Good,” Harry said, “Because she’s just pulled up the drive.”

Louis sat up straight as he heard the car in the driveway, scooting just a hare away from Harry. Anne came in the door, smiling when she saw Harry and Louis.

“You’re home early,” she said brightly to Harry, looking thrilled. “Hi, Louis, you alright, love?” She added.

Harry stood and took Anne’s bag from her and kissed her cheek. “We decided to skip practice today and come home early,” he supplied. Anne made her way to the kitchen, and Harry and Louis followed.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Harry tutted as Anne turned to serve herself. He gently turned his mum around and pushed her towards the table. “I’ll get your food,” he said. Anne smiled.

“How was your day, Mrs. Cox?” Louis asked politely, sitting across from her as Harry got the plates ready (they’d both agreed long ago to never let Louis work in the kitchen).

“Please, Anne – you know that!” Anne laughed. “It was good, though; thanks. How was yours?” she added, looking at both boys.

Harry slid her plate onto the table, sliding Louis’ over as well. “It was good,” he said brightly as he sat down with his own plate. “We practiced really hard today – Stan pitted me and Lou against each other, and I managed to just keep up. Stan said if I kept practicing like I did today, he’d convince coach to put me in once we start games,” he finished, eyes lit up brightly.

Anne beamed, and Louis coughed, trying to hide his own blinding smile. “That’s great, Hazza,” Anne enthused. “Don’t forget to get me a schedule as soon as you can,” she reminded Harry seriously. “I’ll need to know when to take off.”

“Every Wednesday and Friday,” Louis said automatically, knowing the schedule with ease. Anne and Harry both stared at him. “Wednesday nights, we play at five, and on Friday nights, we play at seven. Wednesdays are away; Fridays are here.”

“Well – thank you, Louis,” Anne answered. “I’ll be sure to put that in for work. I won’t be able to make it to all the Wednesday games –”

“Don’t worry about it, Mum,” Harry quickly cut in, not liking the guilt lacing her tone. “You have to work; of course you can’t make all the games. That’s okay. Just cheer extra-loud for the ones you’re at,” he added cheekily. Anne laughed and promised to do just that.

They lapsed into a comfortable quiet, Anne and Harry used to the quiet, and Louis reveling in it. It was always so noisy at his house, with his sisters and hyper mum; it was nice to enjoy a companionable quiet for once.

Once dinner was finished, Harry moved and grabbed the plates, putting them in the sink before coming back to the table. He sat right next to Louis and made eye contact with Anne. “Mum,” he began seriously. Louis squeezed his knee comfortingly under the table. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

Anne looked at the two boys with the air of confusion, but she nodded for Harry to continue.

“I’m – well – we’re both – I’m gay, Mum,” he finished, and Anne’s whole face changed. “And me and Louis – I’m his girlfriend. I mean – he’s my boyfriend, and I’m his boyfriend. We’re each other’s boyfriends. We’re boyfriends. I’m gay, and Louis is gay, and we’re each other’s boyfriends.” He stared at the table, waiting for Anne to say something – _anything_ – and Louis squeezed his knee again.

“I hope Louis was okay with you outing him,” Anne finally said, amused, “because you said he's gay about six different ways.” She laughed and stood from her chair, coming around to stand in front of Harry. She cupped his face and kissed his forehead. “Oh, honey, you know I’d love you no matter! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Well – to be fair – we only just started officially dating today,” Louis rescued Harry. Harry threw him a grateful (blushing) smile.

“Alright, well – you take care of my boy, d’you hear?” She said, shaking a fist in mock-intimidation. They all laughed quietly, and she relented. “Okay, go on upstairs. I’ll do the dishes.”

“You’re sure?” Harry asked, eyeing the small pile in the sink.

“I’m sure. Go on, go on,” she shooed them. “Are the boys still coming over?”

“Oh, right – yeah, they’re coming. Should be here at six, or something,” Harry remembered. He turned to Louis and invited, “You can stay, if you want. We’re just doing homework and hanging out. You should stay.”

Louis’ fingers traced Harry’s jawline again. “Do you want me to stay, Harry?” He asked quietly.

Harry lowered his gaze and blushed as he murmured, “I would like you to stay.”

“Alright, then,” Louis said flippantly, sliding his fingers away from Harry as he walked to the door. “Let me go get my bag. Meet you upstairs?”

Harry nodded and made his way upstairs. He shut the door most of the way and pulled out of his clothes, searching in his closet for new ones. He was still shirtless when Louis came in, and blushed when he caught Louis blatantly staring at him. “Sorry,” Louis said once he realized he’d been ogling at Harry for too long.

“’S alright,” Harry said, though his blush contradicted him.

They sat together on Harry’s bed, textbooks and notebooks spread out between them messily, not talking much other than to ask random questions or complain mildly about homework in general. There was a knock on Harry’s door, and they both looked up to see Liam come in, holding a hand over Niall’s eyes.

“We’re decent, Li,” Harry said, clearly amused. Liam released Niall’s face, and the blond boy huffed.

“Told you they wouldn’t be doin’ anything,” he muttered before moving further into the room. “Dibs on the desk,” he called out swiftly, and Liam groaned, since that meant he’d be doing homework on the floor.

“There’s room up here,” Louis offered, scooting things over to make room for Liam, but the boy just shook his head.

“That’s alright; thanks. I’ll stay in the floor.”

Louis swallowed the polite rejection and kept his gaze at his work, knowing Harry would be looking at him with reassurance.

They sat in awkward quiet, all doing their homework with stray comments and questions. Louis blurted out an answer to Niall’s question for his creative writing assignment, and the blond boy smiled so brilliantly that even Liam nodded minutely in approval. Harry watched carefully, though not obviously, as Liam relaxed and got used to the idea of Louis. That’s why he’d wanted Louis to stay so badly tonight: to get Liam to soften around Louis. It seemed that the knowledge that the two were officially dating calmed Liam more than anything – he liked being able to put labels on things.

When they were nearly finished with their homework, Louis’ phone went off. He briefly checked the caller ID before pressing talk, excusing himself. He stood right outside the door before speaking, and Harry strained his ears to listen. “Hey, mate, can’t really talk – Yeah, I’m over at Harry’s. …You dick; no, we’re doing homework with his mates. …Yeah, and Liam. …That’s the – really? I can do it. …Alright. Alright. See you later then. Bye. Bye, bye.” He hung up the phone and walked into Harry’s room.

Harry smiled when he saw Louis come back into the room with a smile on his face, and started to do his homework. When Louis got settled on his bed again, the older boy called out, “Hey, Nialler?” The Irish boy looked up at his name. “Do you mind if I give Zayn your number? He wants it, but says he never can find you during the day.”

Harry and Liam’s heads snapped up to stare incredulously at Louis, who remained watching Niall. The blond boy in question’s eyes widened and his mouth parted in a perfect ‘o’.

When Niall didn’t answer, Harry hurriedly grabbed Louis’ mobile and typed in Niall’s number into it and saving it so Louis could find it later. “Of course, you can,” Harry answered for his best mate.

It seemed to have done the trick, and Niall (who was a pleasant shade of pink at this point) nodded and cleared his throat. “I – erm, thanks, Louis.”

Louis nodded casually and turned to his homework before suddenly snapping his head up to Niall. He pointed his finger at the blond and said mock-menacingly, “You’d better treat him with dignity and respect, young man, or I’ll be after you!”

Niall and Harry laughed, Harry leaning forward to grab at Louis’ hand. He pulled Louis in and hugged him, tucking his face into the crook of Louis’ neck, humming appreciatively when Louis errantly ran a hand through his curls. Louis closed his eyes and smiled for a second before easing Harry away, scolding him for distracting them from their studies. Neither boy saw Liam and Niall exchange a silent conversation, ending with a reluctant sigh of acceptance from Liam.


	6. Part 6.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, there's some emotions in here, and it's basically all dialogue, and not much NEW really happens. WARNING: there are mentions of OFC rape, and mentions of child molestation. If those are a trigger, just scroll to the bottom, and I'll go ahead and write a summary so you don't miss anything. It's not very graphic, but I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable. Hope you like it, and sorry for the wait!!

Louis sighed as he fell back onto his mattress, blowing out a big breath, accompanied with an over-dramatic moan to express his exhaustion. Zayn just laughed at him, which was a far cry from the sympathetic clucking noise of Harry’s that Louis had grown accustomed to, and Louis felt a pang of missing him. Then he snorted at himself; when had he become so clingy? He could last a day without Harry.

Harry and Louis had both decided the day before that today, Friday, Harry would walk home with Liam and spend the night with him and Niall, and Louis would hang out with Zayn and Stan, maybe have a pizza-and-movie night or even go to a party (Harry had suggested the party; Louis genuinely had no desire to go out). It was a good idea, and meant to be fun for everyone. Besides, he really had been neglecting Zayn and Stan since Harry had joined the team; it would do him well to spend the day with his mates. Still, though… Louis let out another sigh.

“Missing Mary already?” Stan teased from the corner of Louis’ room. Louis threw a pillow at his face.

“Stop _calling_ him that,” Louis said, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. Louis had that awkward, _this-might-actually-cause-a-problem_ feeling in the pit of his stomach, and he sat up straight, looking at Stan and Zayn with his expression firm. “Really, guys. I don’t like that. I get that it’s a little weird, right. But…But I don’t like it when you keep making ‘Virgin Mary’ jokes. So really, please…just, like…don’t. Don’t do that. He’d be really upset if he knew you guys talked about him like that, and he doesn’t deserve to have his feelings hurt like that.”

The boys both nodded, although Zayn had only made a few jokes and stopped long ago when he saw Louis’ face as a result, and Louis breathed out a sigh of relief that there hadn’t been some stupid row, or anything.

“I think it’s just _weird_ , mate,” Stan said after a minute. “Like – for a few reasons. For one, it’s weird for _you_. I mean, you’re damn lucky and all, ‘cause he’s fit and you can be horrible in bed and he won’t have anything else to compare it to, right, but – and no offense, or anything, you know I love you, but – you’re kind of a slag. I don’t mean like a _proper_ slag,” Stan rushed to fix the statement when Zayn slapped at his arm. “I just meant, like – you really like sex, and you really like guys who…know what they’re doing, I guess. That’s all I meant.”

Louis nodded. It was true, at least, but none of that mattered. There was just something about that dimpled smile that made everything else stop mattering so much.

“And then, like, for two, it’s weird for _him_. Like, even I can see he’s right fit. Like, proper fit. I think I might be a little bit in love with his face, and I don’t even like blokes.” Louis and Zayn both snorted at Stan’s assessment, and it only egged Stan on. “I just mean, why would someone who looks like that…wait? Why wouldn’t he just go out and get himself some sex? All he’d have to say is, ‘hey, wanna go?’ and I bet they’d do it. It’s just weird that he’d wait.”

Louis nodded, remembering thinking this way himself, when he had first learned that Harry was a virgin. “He just never was _interested_ in a guy enough. Not in that way, at least. He’s not really like…he’s not like, the kind of person who shies away from being touched in general; it’s just that he’s always been pretty quiet around people he doesn’t know, and he’s a bit shy, and he’s just. He’s perfect, really, but that’s not really related to what we were talking about, is it?”

Zayn let out a sarcastic little, “No, not really,” and Stan just laughed.

“But the last thing is,” Stan continued like Louis’d never even spoken, “is that…and, again – no offense to you – but…why _you_? Not that you’re not great, or anything, but…he’s so different from you, in about every way possible. Honestly, do you guys have anything in common?”

Louis paused, sorting through the things Harry would be okay with him telling Stan and Zayn and the things Harry would want him to keep private. “We do, actually. Like, music – we like a lot of the same things, but also a lot of different things, so we get to introduce each other to new music all the time. And he’s really smart, except for science, so we help each other in school. His two mates are his favorite people, he loves football more than anything, he adores his mum, and he really understands the whole – the…situation…with my dad. He has…Dad problems, too.”

“Really?” Zayn asked, interested. “What happened?”

“I dunno, yet,” Louis said, realizing belatedly that Harry never had got around to telling him about his dad, and wondering if it was on purpose.

But Zayn and Stan nodded knowingly. “Some things take time,” Zayn said softly, scanning Louis’ face for a reaction. Louis only nodded and rolled to fish his phone from his pocket.

_Hasn’t even been half an hour and we’re already talking about you…is that pathetic? Xx_

Louis sent the text and put his phone back. “So how’s Nialler, Zayn?” He asked, hoping to distract himself.

Zayn smirked and said, “Good, yeah, he’s really cool.”

Louis nodded and was about to ask the typical follow-up questions when Lottie burst through his door.

“Lottie,” Louis nearly shouted, “you know the lads are here; you can’t just barge in!”

“Dad’s here,” she said quickly, breathing a bit heavily.

Louis stopped cold before he stood. He tossed his phone over to Zayn, who caught it and put it in his pocket and stood as well, Stan following him. “We’ll be at mine, yeah?” Zayn muttered as he passed Louis, stopping to drop a kiss to Lottie’s forehead, and Stan did the same as they left the house.

Louis took a deep breath and counted to twenty, hearing his father’s terse greetings to the lads. When he opened his eyes, Lottie was still standing by his door, looking almost overwhelmed as she watched him. Louis opened his arms to her, and she rushed forward, burying her head in his chest. “What’s he here for, Lou?” she asked sadly.

Louis squeezed her tightly, knowing Lottie was uneasy around their father, as she was old enough to understand the meaner things he had done to their family. “I dunno,” he admitted, “but it’s probably to do with me. Keep the girls out back or something, yeah?” Lottie nodded and they both left – Lottie across the hall to gather the girls, and Louis downstairs to meet his step-dad.

“So, you’re here,” the man boomed sardonically upon seeing him. “What happened to going out almost every night?”

“In case you hadn’t noticed, it’s just gone half six,” Louis droned out. “Any party I’d be in at half-six wouldn’t have been worth the time or effort.”

“So you had plans to go out tonight?” Mark asked, eyebrow raised.

“Yeah,” Louis lied. “Grimmy’s throwing a party tonight, and we thought we’d go. Starts at ten, so we’d get there a little later than that.”

Mark raised his eyebrows and nodded. “Give me your phone,” he said, holding his hand out.

“What? No!” Louis said, acting like he hadn’t expected it. When Mark just shook his hand a bit more emphatically, Louis sighed and started patting his pockets before making a confused face. Finally, he put on a false look of realization before he mumbled, “Zayn must still have it; he was getting a girl’s number from it.”

Mark sighed and stepped closer to Louis, who did his best not to look away from his father’s challenging glare. “Are you still out with that boy?” He asked.  
Louis looked at his feet and mumbled, “No.”

“What was that?”

Louis sighed and looked back at his father. “ _No_ ,” he emphasized. “I’m not with him anymore. He…ended up not wanting the…he didn’t want to date.” Louis swallowed and closed his eyes, knowing that while all he felt was guilt for lying about his boyfriend, his father would interpret the look as upset.

Mark patted Louis’ shoulder in an attempt to seem like a comforting father, and he laughed and said, “Well, good. I knew it was just a phase. Good to get it out of your system when you’re young, though, yeah?” Louis clenched his jaw and nodded jerkily, and Mark got to the point of his visit. “I’ve got this company dinner at the end of the month. Mostly just a chance for everyone to show off their families. I want you guys there. Your mother, as well. See to it that it happens.”

Louis nodded, and Mark turned to leave before he froze and leaned toward Louis more, reaching out and gripping Louis’ bicep hard enough to bruise. “Oh, and Louis,” he said quietly, “I better start hearing your name a bit more in city gossip, alright? It's good for business for you kids to be recognized positively around town.”

Louis nodded again, and Mark left. Louis stood rooted to the spot until he heard the door click shut and his dad’s car start in the drive, and then he sunk to the ground, burying his face in his hands in frustration.

He waited a few more minutes to get his fury in check before he walked out of his house and across the street to Zayn’s. He didn’t bother knocking, because Zayn’s parents were still at work, and Zayn didn’t care. Louis found his mates in Zayn’s room, sitting on beanbag chairs in the corner, both texting. They looked up when he came in, but Louis didn’t say anything and went straight to Zayn’s bed, flopping down on it and burying his face into a pillow.

“Erm,” Stan began, but he trailed off when Louis didn’t move to acknowledge him.

“Harry’s coming over,” Zayn continued. Louis moved his head to look around at Zayn, who continued. “We texted him and told him your dad was over, and he asked where you were. I told him you’d be coming here, and then he asked for directions and promised to bring Niall and Liam along. I think he’s kind of worried about you.”

“Yeah, he knows we don’t get along,” Louis said, absently nodding. “How’s he getting here?”

“Liam just got his license.”

Louis nodded. That was right; Harry had been so happy the day before, when Liam had told him over dinner at Harry’s.

They sat in silence until the doorbell rang, Zayn and Stan texting and chatting and sneaking worried glances over at Louis, while Louis smashed his face further and further into the pillow, wrought in guilt over what he’d said to his father about Harry.

Stan and Zayn both jumped up when the doorbell sounded, but Louis stayed on the bed, pressing his face deeper and deeper until he got dizzy. He vaguely heard Zayn introducing everyone, and had a flash of more guilt because he really should be there when Harry met his best mates for the first time. Before he could dwell on it, though, the mattress sunk with more weight, and Louis felt a long, lanky body press against his side. Louis turned away from it, but scooted backwards to be the little spoon, and Harry complied easily, sliding his hand hesitantly around Louis’ waist, fingers a little clammy from nerves where they pressed against his hip bones.

Louis sighed, and Harry’s thumb swept up and down once. “’S wrong, Lou?” he asked quietly, pressing his legs closer to Louis’. Louis just shook his head, knowing Harry was about to be beyond hurt at what Louis had said. He wasn’t ready to talk about it.

Harry was quiet a moment before he slowly began: “My dad’s in jail,” he whispered softly. “Only Liam and Niall know that.”

Louis shifted his arm from where it lay across his belly, up until he could twist his fingers between Harry’s, over his hip. “What happened?” he asked in a hushed whisper.

Harry didn’t answer at first, and Louis was just about to twist around to see his face when he spoke again. “I really loved my dad. He was…I always thought he was really cool. He knew everything, and he could fix anything. He made a lot of stuff by himself. I had this really cool racecar bed frame when I was about five? He’d made it for me, because I’d been in a racecar phase for about six months. He was probably my favorite person.”

Harry’s fingertips were moving restlessly on Louis’ skin by now, flexing and relaxing between Louis’ fingers. “I – him and my mum had gotten in a fight,” he explained slowly, like he was seeing it all before his eyes. “And my mum went out, over to my gran’s. She usually would leave me with my dad, because dad worked from home, and we were really close, and she knew I was safe. …She stayed gone the whole weekend, and dad called a friend over. He told me to go up to my room and play, and I did, but later, I heard…his friend was shouting at him. Kept saying, ‘No, no, don’t’. So, I went downstairs, and he – my dad – was…he was raping her. His friend.”

Louis froze, suddenly, and then wrapped his hand around Harry’s, bringing it to his face. He pressed Harry’s hand to his cheek for a second before turning into it, pressing his lips to Harry’s palm.

Harry took a shaky breath before continuing. “I watched – I didn’t know what he was doing, I was, like, eight or nine – and then when…when he was…done…he let her go, and he saw me at the stairs. I was terrified, and I didn’t know why, at the time. Probably, it was just that I could tell how scared the woman was, and my dad didn’t look very nice. He called me downstairs and asked what I saw, and I told him. And he said he was sorry for scaring me, and that he was just playing with his friend. Said not to tell Mum, because then they would fight more, and he knew how much I hated it when they fought.

“Mum came home, and they worked on it, and for maybe two weeks, it was great, again. And then they got in another fight, and Mum left to go to Gran’s for the night. But Dad didn’t call a friend over that time. He just…tried to play with me.”

Louis gasped and rolled over, pulling Harry close to him, squeezing him tight. Harry sighed into the embrace, but he was calm, letting his fingers skate across Louis’ back. Louis felt hot tears escape, and they must have fallen down onto Harry’s cheek, because Harry gripped him tighter and murmured, “’S alright, love, it’s alright. I’m not done.”

Louis relaxed just a little once he realized Harry wasn’t upset, but he kept his face turned into Harry’s chest, not looking at his face. Harry continued. “He tried to play with me. He started just holding my hand and hugging me, cuddling and kissing my cheeks. Normal stuff we did anyway. But then he started taking off my clothes, and I thought he was just going to change me, or something. And he kept saying, ‘I need this, I need this’, so I let him. I started getting uncomfortable when he started…his hands were, like. Rubbing. All over me. And I started getting uncomfortable. So I told him no, and I reminded him that Mum had told me not to let people touch me if it made me uncomfortable, and I didn’t like the way my dad was looking at me. So I told him. And he got…really upset. And he started crying. And I thought he was going to stop, but then, he got really angry. I’ll never forget what his face looked like. And then, he hit me, and I fell, and my head hit the wall, and I was knocked unconscious.” Louis squeezed Harry again, and burrowed his head down between his and Harry’s chest, shaking his head in denial of what he was hearing. He felt Harry’s fingers soft in the short hair at the base of his neck, and Harry continued. “I don’t know what happened while I was out. Mum said she came home, that Gran had convinced her to try again and work things out, because it wasn’t fair to me for her to keep running off, and that I was gonna have abandonment issues, or something. She came home, and she saw him. She never told me what he was doing, but it was bad enough that she called the cops and hit him in the head with a frying pan.

“Mum took me to the hospital, of course, and then the cops came, and I thought I was in trouble. The cops were really nice, I remember that. Really nice. And I told them about what happened, and I thought it was so weird because they kept asking where my dad’s hands were and where it happened and if it had happened before, and I said something about how my dad looked angry because I wouldn’t let him play, and they asked me about that. I told them about his friend, and we found her, and she testified against him in court. So he got rape and, like, attempted rape of a minor, or something like that, and then child molestation charges and things like that. Mum divorced him, obviously, and we moved houses, and she put me in child therapy until the doctor was sure I was okay, and Mum had to work really hard for a while, but I came with her for a long time. She got a new job, and her boss was really understanding, so she was allowed to leave work in time to pick me up after school, and I’d go to work with her and sit in a chair and do my homework until she got off work, and we’d go to dinner and then go home. I got close with Liam and Niall after a while – Mum was good friends with Liam’s mum, and finally I started being allowed to go to Liam’s after school, and Niall came, too, and so, like. We were already good friends, but they didn't ask questions about my dad, the way everyone else did, and we got even closer. I was scared of men who looked like my dad for a while, because I was scared they’d look at me like – like how my dad looked at me, that time. But they never did, and I’ve, like, dealt with it emotionally and all of that. I get bitter, sometimes, because when Niall and Liam started dating and touching other people, and things like that, I didn’t understand why they’d want someone to take their clothes off and touch them in those places. All I could see when I thought of things like that was my dad’s face, and how angry his eyes were. And when I realized I liked other guys, I thought it was wrong and because of my dad. Nobody I knew liked guys, but one day, Liam just straight-up asked me. I remember, because I lied to him, and I’d never done it. But he told me it was okay, and that he knew I liked boys, and I cried and admitted it. But he said it was alright, and that he wouldn’t tell anyone, and that I wasn’t messed up. He tells me that a lot.”

Louis kept his head buried for probably fifteen minutes, breathing heavily and trying not to give into the tears. He couldn’t imagine his boyfriend going through something like that. His boyfriend, who was probably the most innocent and harmless person in the world, who was kind, and loving, and accepting, and warm, and patient…his boyfriend, who had been betrayed and terrified by his own father.

“Lou?” Harry asked hesitantly, sounding nervous. “Is that…are we? Do…do you still want to be my boyfriend?”

Louis brought his head up, pressing closer to Harry’s chest but shifting away from his face to look at him properly. Louis unclenched a hand from Harry’s shirt and brought it to his boyfriend’s cheek, caressing it softly, like he was afraid to break him.

"Harry,” Louis whispered, “something like that wouldn’t make me want to break up with you.”

Harry’s face broke into relief, but he still hesitated. “I don’t want your pity, Lou,” he said, like a plea and a warning mixed together.

Louis shook his head. “I don’t pity you, Harry,” he said honestly. “I just really, really care about you.”

Harry broke into a shy grin, and he placed a hand over Louis’ on his cheek. “Yeah?”

Louis nodded slowly, smiling and looking into Harry’s eyes. “Yeah. I…I think I might love you.” He didn’t let Harry answer, didn’t let him freak out. Instead, Louis pulled Harry into a hug and rested his head against Harry’s shoulder.

After a few moments, he felt Harry smile against his hair and heard him whisper, “I think I love you, too.” Louis just squeezed him tighter and nodded.

“So, what happened with your dad, Lou?”

It kind of ruined the mood, but Louis knew he owed Harry the explanation, after that confession from Harry. “It’ll hurt your feelings,” he whispered sadly, but Harry wasn’t deterred.

“Me? Nah. I’ve got feelings of steel, me.”

Louis rolled his eyes, but he sat up, disentangling himself from Harry slowly. He picked at Zayn’s quilt for a bit before telling Harry what had happened, explaining everything and stuttering over the words he’d said. Harry kept his face open, readable, and Louis saw the exact moment when Harry registered that Louis denied being in a relationship, but Harry didn’t say anything, and Louis finished the story of the encounter. “I’m so sorry,” Louis blurted out instantly. “I didn’t mean it, but I didn’t want him to look for you, and – I can call him, right now! Or, when I get my phone back form Zayn, I can.”

But Harry just shook his head, looking down at his hands, which slid across his lap and into Louis’ before sliding between Louis’ hands. Their fingers tangled and Harry pulled Louis closer. “It’s alright,” Harry said. “It sucks, but I know you didn’t do it because you’re ashamed. I know you care about me. About us. It’s alright.”

Louis nodded at Harry’s words. “I do,” he emphasized after Harry was done. “I do care about you, and us. I’ll do anything to protect us. Our dads won’t ruin us, will they?”

Harry brought Louis’ hand, still tangled in his own, and kissed the back of it. “They won’t even know. It’s alright. We’re alright.”

Louis tugged Harry off of Zayn’s bed and pulled him into the living room, where their mates were relaxing around a few boxes of pizza. Stan and Niall cheered boisterously when they saw them, but Zayn was busy scanning Louis critically for clues, and Liam was doing the same with Harry.

Louis flashed a smile when he noticed that Niall was practically in Zayn’s lap, and he squeezed Harry’s hand and nodded. Harry broke out into a grin, and they flopped down next to Liam on a sofa. They held hands while they ate, and the six of them relaxed in the living room for the rest of the night. Harry didn’t leave Louis’ side once, except to refill the drinks or go to the bathroom, and Louis kept feeling Harry tug his hand up and press it to his lips. Louis would turn to look at Harry immediately, and every time, he saw a self-satisfied, pleased little smile gracing his boyfriend’s lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Louis and Harry decide to spend a Friday apart, because they've been slightly ignoring their friends. Louis' dad drops by the house while Louis' relaxing with Zayn and Stan; the other two go back to Zayn's, where Zayn texts Harry that Louis' dad is over. Harry decides to come over. Louis tells his dad that he and the boy he'd told his dad about are over, his dad is pleased, mentions a company dinner he expects Louis, his sisters, and his mother to be at, and tells Louis to go out more. When Louis goes over to Zayn's, he's really upset. Harry arrives soon after (Liam drove, just got his license), and Louis and Harry talk in Zayn's room. Harry tells Louis about what happened with his father. (Harry saw his father raping a woman in his house, and his father realizes Harry saw and makes him swear not to tell Anne. The next time Anne leaves the house, Harry's father starts to touch Harry, and it makes him uncomfortable so he tells his father to stop. His dad hits him, Harry goes unconscious, and Anne comes home and sees what her husband is doing to her son, and she calls the cops. Harry and the raped woman put his father in jail. Nobody but Louis, Liam, and Niall know, now.) Harry gets nervous after telling Louis, but Louis says he might be in love with Harry. Harry returns the sentiment. Louis, in turn, tells Harry about lying to his dad about Harry and him breaking up, and Harry accepts it and vows not to let their fathers ruin their relationship. They leave Zayn's room and join Stan, Liam, Niall, and Zayn in the living room, where they all relax and eat pizza. Zayn and Niall are sitting awfully close, and Louis and Harry notice and are happy about it. Harry moves further physically by kissing Louis' hand, and he does it multiple times throughout the chapter.  
> .xx Thanks for reading!


	7. Part 7.

_This has got to be the most awkward dinner party ever._

Harry made a sympathetic clucking noise as he took a break from his homework to read Louis’ text.

Louis’ father had made Louis convince his entire family to go to some dinner party for Louis’ dad’s company. It hadn’t been too hard to convince the younger three, but Lottie and Louis’ mum were both reluctant to go, and Louis had been getting more and more anxious, because his father had really wanted the whole family there.

Finally, the night before the dinner, Louis and Harry had been at Harry’s, and Harry promised over the phone to come meet Lottie and Louis’ mum later on in the weekend if they went. They were sold. Louis had let a shuddery breath of relief once he got off the phone, and Harry kissed each of his fingers before pressing Louis’ slightly sweaty palm to his cheek and holding it there.

“Thank you,” Louis had breathed out, waiting for a second before pulling his phone out again and dialing.

“Wh-” Harry had started to ask, but whoever it was had answered, and Louis smiled.

“Ellllllll,” he drew out, sounding falsely cheery, “how _are_ you, love?” He paused for a second, and Harry heard a distinctly girly voice answer. “Great, love, thanks. Listen, I know it’s short notice, but my dad’s having a dinner tomorrow at eight, semi-formal on the bill. My whole family’s coming; you know the girls’d love to see you again. Can you come?” Harry’s brows furrowed in confusion, and he felt a certain cold dread pooling in the pit of his stomach. He listened on as he let Louis’ hand drop from his cheek into his lap, fingers still curled in his. “Excellent, then. I’ll pick you up at seven? Thanks, love. Bye, then! Bye.”

Harry stayed quiet as Louis hung up the phone and closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the couch and blowing out a gust of air. After a minute or two of silence, Harry tried to pull his fingers from Louis’, but Louis tightened his grip and whispered, “Stay.”

Harry had looked at Louis, who was now looking at their hands joined, but said nothing.

“Eleanor pretends to be my on-again, off-again girlfriend,” Louis explained in a monotonous voice. “We grew up a bit together before Mum met my dad.”

As usual, for Harry had heard the bit about his parents before, Harry felt a brief injustice that Louis’ dad was so awful and he wasn’t even Louis’ _real dad_ , but he let the moment pass, and Louis continued.

“Now, whenever I need a date I can’t really get, I call El. She’s always up for dressing in pretty clothes and feeling appreciated, and it’s not often she gets to hang out with her sassy gay friend.”

Harry had felt bad, for a bit, because he was instantly flooded with relief that Eleanor knew Louis was gay, and that she wouldn’t try and flirt with Louis, or anything.

Louis had kissed Harry’s fingers before he left, thanking him for dinner and for being understanding about Eleanor. “I’ll text you during, and I’ll call you after, alright?”

 ---

_I literally might be dying of boredom. All I can think about is how much I wanna be there with you:(_

The vibration of Harry’s phone drew Harry out of his thoughts; Louis was clearly desperate for conversation. Harry smiled and sent back a quick _be sure to be captivated by eleanor, though. Wouldn’t want your daddykins to be upset, now, would we?_ and laid back on his bed, thinking about his wonderful boyfriend.

It wasn’t ‘til a few minutes later, when he started getting hard, that he realized he’d been laying in bed, thinking about Louis, and slowly trailing his fingers up and down his torso. His hand paused on its trail, but really…it had been a while since he’d had a decent wank.

He brought a hand up and pressed a few fingers into his mouth, closing his eyes and thinking how Louis had pressed kisses to those fingers only hours before, dropping him off from school. He coated his fingers with his own spit and brought his fingers down to his nipples, where they ghosted over the buds, making them tighten instantly. His fingers carried lower, over his stomach, the little ridges of definition just starting to form from all the hard work on the field with Louis, and teased at the waistband of his gym shorts.

Harry hesitated.

He had wanked to Louis before…but that was before they were dating, before Harry _knew_ Louis, and just thought he was some hot guy to fantasize about. Fantasizing about hot guys is okay. …Was it weird to wank to your boyfriend? Harry didn’t think so, but it was hardly the kind of thing he would _know_.

Harry sighed and picked up his phone, pulling up the only person who wouldn’t be shocked, offended, weirded out, or make fun of him.

_Hey, Ni? Is it normal to wank to your boyfriend, or is that just for porn and people you’d never have a chance in hell with? .xx_

He regretted sending kisses to his best mate in a text about wanking as soon as he sent it, but thankfully, Niall didn’t say anything about it.

_Hell yah, its normal!! Id’ think hed be a mite insulted if u didn’t, ha!! Have a good time;)_

Harry sighed in relief and was just about to send out a thank you, but his phone vibrated again. And it didn’t stop.

_Wait… you haven’t wanked since you and lou got together?!_

_Hazza, mate that’s not healthy!!_

_Am I gonna have to talk to liam about your wanking habits?? I’m sure hed be concerned over this!!_

_Hazza, really, you need to wank more often, serious!!_

_Just imagine bjs and handies and stuff, whatever gets you off, do it more often, mate!!_

Harry was bright red at this point, mostly because he could tell Niall was _genuinely_ concerned about this, and he texted Niall _‘thanks, mate, turning my phone on silent now, byeee’_ before he did just that.

Harry laid back and shoved his boxers down, off his legs and took his penis into his hand. It had hardened up with Niall’s talk of blow jobs and hand jobs and…other things…and Harry groaned as he stroked it down, picturing Louis’ slightly smaller hands doing it for him. His stroking got faster as he imagine Louis leaning over, kissing him as he stroked Harry, kisses trailing from his mouth all the way to his penis, and Harry was just about to come before imagining Louis’ blue eyes staring lustfully up at him before opening his lips wide and taking Harry into his warm, wet –

“Hey darling, I –”

“Sh – Mum, _get out_!” Harry shouted, curling up and turning his body as his mum flailed and turned around, slamming his door shut.

Harry lay panting, embarrassed nearly to tears, on his bed. He finally moved to pull his pants and shorts up, over his now-completely flaccid penis. He stood, finding a shirt to put on, and willed his nearly-purple blush to leave his face and neck before he went out of his room. Knowing he had to confront this situation with his mum, Harry took a deep breath and opened his door.

“Mum?” Harry called tentatively, and was met with no reply.

Harry walked across the hall to her room, and knocked on her door. “Mum?” he called before slowly opening the door. When he heard no reply, Harry peeked around the side of the door to check in her room. Nothing.

He walked downstairs, feeling the mortification that, what if he had said something, like Louis’ name, but braved the awkward and kept loping downstairs.

“Muuuuuum,” Harry called, knocking on the toilet, walking through the living room, checking in the laundry room, and in the kitchen.  
On the table, his mum had left a note.  
 __  
H-  
Terribly sorry, love, I’m going out tonight. Won’t be back ‘til late, work all day tomorrow. We don’t need to talk about this. Will always love you. –Mum.

Harry had never actually wanted to die, but he thought he might be considering the appeal. How horrifying. His mum didn’t even work weekends usually. His own _mother_ was avoiding him after having seen him nearly come all over himself, frantically wanking to his first ever boyfriend.

How humiliating.

Suddenly, Harry really needed company. He jogged the stairs and grabbed his phone, ignoring the seven( _seven!_ ) texts from Niall and went straight to Louis.

Luckily, Louis picked up on the third ring. “Hiya, how are you?” he asked, eagerly enough.

“Lou, can you come home?” He talked on, quickly, not quite ready to feel the sting of rejection that wouldn’t even be Louis’ fault. “I know you’re really busy, but – I’m just, like…really lonely? And I want you to be here.”

Surprisingly, Louis accepted. “I – erm – yeah, yeah I can – it’ll be a bit, but I can come. Are – are you okay? Did something happen?”

Harry felt himself blush again, and he answered, “Erm, yeah, sort of, but I just – I just want to be with you. I don’t want to talk about it. Can we just – can we watch movies, or something?”

Louis’ voice softened considerably, so much that Harry had a hard time hearing over the bustle of the dinner party. “Sure. We – erm, well. Daisy isn’t feeling well, so my mum is wanting to take her home, but – I can, if you don’t mind having her around? Only, I don’t think my dad will like it if I go and my mum goes with the girls. But if I go, I can get away just taking Daisy. Do you mind?”

Harry nodded, then realized Louis couldn’t see. “Of course! I – how old is Daisy, again? Should I, like…does she play with toys, or…I could cook her something? I dunno, I don’t know kids…”

Louis laughed sweetly and cooed into the phone, “She’ll be okay with a pallet on the floor and a snack; don’t over-do yourself. She’s the most relaxed one of all the girls, so you’ve gotten off lucky.”

Harry smiled and said, “Okay, then.”

“Alright, we’re leaving now. I have to take Eleanor home, and then drop by the house to change and change Daisy, take her temperature and all that, in case she needs something, and then we’ll be over. Give me…forty minutes?”

Harry smiled a bit. “Alright. See you soon, then.”

“See you soon.”

Harry hung up the phone and took a quick shower, washing all the almost-sex scent he was sure he could smell on himself, before he started cooking pizza rolls, breaking open a bag of assorted candy while he was at it. He didn’t want to give Daisy _too_ many sweets while she was ill, though, so he took out a few pieces of sweet fruit and started slicing it up. Then he found the softest, cushiest blankets and pillows in the house, making a sort of tent-slash-cocoon out of blankets and his furniture, rearranging the living room to make it better and more fun for her, and still leaving enough room for him and Louis on the couch. He opened the movie drawers, intent on locating the best G-rated DVDs he could find. There were plenty to choose from, as he was the only child and his mum kept _everything_ , and eventually, Harry just _gave up_ and left the entire drawer full of movies open so Daisy could pick herself. Harry then rushed back upstairs to pick out his clothes, running downstairs in his boxers while tugging his shirt over his head when the buzzer went off on the oven, having finished cooking the pizza rolls. Harry took the food out and ran upstairs, calling. “Come in!” loud enough when he heard the door knock.

The door opened, and Harry heard Louis calling out his name curiously, and then, quieter, “Yeah, go on, he’s made that for you, I bet.”

Harry called out, “Be right down!” and threw on another (clean) pair of gym shorts, thumping down the stairs quickly. “Hi,” he breathed out, seeing Louis all done-up like he’d never seen.

Louis was in sleep clothes – thick, flannel trousers and a long-sleeved shirt – and his hair was still styled for the fancy dinner party…in a quiff. In a tall, swooping-to-the-side-to-reveal-his-sexy-face, quiff. Harry nearly choked when Louis smiled.

“Hi, love,” Louis chirped, taking Harry’s hand and pulling him into a hug, holding tight. Harry felt a kiss press into his shoulder, but didn’t say anything because he didn’t really mind. It was nice.

Harry heard a cough behind him, and pulled hastily out of Louis’ embrace to find a little girl with long-ish blonde hair and bright blue eyes, just like Louis’. She coughed again and sniffed, and Harry smiled hesitantly at her. “Hi, Daisy,” he said, moving towards her with the hesitation of one approaching a wounded animal, or a ticking bomb. He stuck his hand out to her, and she grasped it. “I’m Harry,” he introduced belatedly.

“I know,” she said in a surprisingly high-pitched voice. “Lou talks about you _all_ the time.”

Louis and Harry both blushed, and Harry crouched down with a gleeful smile as Louis let out an indignant, “OI!”

“What’s he say about me?” Harry whispered conspiratorially, and Daisy took his hand and led him towards the blanket/tent thing Harry had made.

“This is for us, right?” Daisy checked as she walked towards it, and when Harry nodded, Daisy called plaintively to Louis, “Lou, ‘m hungry.”

Louis looked torn between following Harry and feeding his sister, but in the end, his brotherly tendencies won out and Daisy pulled Harry into the tent. “That’ll keep him busy for long enough,” she said gleefully. Then she leaned forward and cupped her hands to Harry’s ear. “He talks about you sometimes when he’s home for dinner. Mum asks a lot of things about you, and Lottie, too, sometimes. And he talks about you on the phone to Zayney and Stanney. And at night, sometimes I can’t sleep and I go get a drink and I walk by his room, and he’s saying your name all funny and bossing you around. He _moans_ at you, sometimes.”

Harry’s eyes widened, and he didn’t know what to say other than call out, “What, Lou? Yeah, I’ll come help,” even though Louis hadn’t said anything. He glanced over at Daisy, who had a mix of sheepishness and devil-may-care on her face, and smiled tightly. “Be right back.”

Harry got up and climbed out of the tent, and joined Louis in the kitchen, walking quickly lest the little girl see the semi threatening to tent his shorts. Louis turned and smiled when he heard Harry approaching, but the smile quickly slipped off his face and concern took over. “What’s wrong?”

“You – erm – I think that you should – probably take your…erm… _night-time activities_ …to the toilets from now on,” Harry muttered out haltingly, easily red as a tomato. “Daisy just…erm… _described_ some of your –”

Louis gasped and covered his face in his hands, and Harry decided that today was _not_ a good wanking day. Louis’ hands drug themselves down his face, and his mouth opened in a perfect ‘o’, shock and horror evident.

Harry glanced down and took in Louis’ mouth, and shifted uncomfortably as his penis gave a throb. Louis glanced curiously down as well, noticing Harry’s discomfort, and Harry watched curiously as Louis’ eyes darkened. Louis’ hands clenched and unclenched, and suddenly, Harry was staring at empty space.

Louis had crossed the kitchen and turned on the tap, putting it to cold. He ran his hands under it for a bit, letting it run over his arms. “C’mere, love,” he murmured to Harry, who came at once.

Louis took Harry’s hands and put them under the cold tap. The cold shocked Harry’s system and he hissed, but Louis just kept it there. Harry focused on the cold, trying not to let his body _freeze_ , and when Louis finally turned off the tap and searched to find a hand towel, Louis smiled and said, “You’re welcome,” glancing down.

Harry glanced down and felt nothing but relief as there was no noticeable _anything_ going on down there, now. “Thanks,” he said wholeheartedly, hugging Louis and nuzzling against his cheek. Harry pulled back, only to lean forward again, hesitantly, and press his lips to Louis’ cheek.

They both froze, trying to decide if that was okay with the other or not, and Louis finally caved and whispered, “Is this a thing, now?” Harry smiled but nodded jerkily, like he wasn’t sure. Louis licked his lips, staring at Harry hard. “Can I kiss your cheek?” Again, Harry nodded, but it was less jerky this time, so Louis leaned forward and pressed his lips gently to Harry’s cheek.

Harry tensed, making Louis pull back, but then he wrapped his arms around Louis’ neck and buried his hands in Louis’ hair. “Do it again,” he asked. He was feeling overwhelmed, almost dizzy with euphoria, and it was kind of scary to the point where he was worried he might be doing something wrong, but it was so good and he just wanted moremoremore.

Louis obliged and kissed Harry’s cheek, just a chaste press against the soft skin, and Harry felt his breathing start to pick up. “Again,” he whispered, “again. Just – don’t stop.” He wasn’t sure what he was getting out of this – it wasn’t like he was getting off on it, or anything, he wasn’t even hard – but he wanted it everywhere, suddenly. He felt a little stupid, and wondered if this was a normal reaction, and was honestly kind of waiting for Louis to laugh at him.

Louis did laugh, but not _at_ Harry. At least, it didn’t sound like it. Louis listened, though, and started peppering little kisses against Harry’s face, closer to his ears, and up his temples, and on his forehead, and down his nose, and across his chin, but mainly on his cheeks.

“ _Ahem_.”

Louis and Harry broke apart quickly, turning to see Daisy waiting impatiently. “I’m _hungry_ ,” she said, “and I dunno how to make the telly work on my _own_. I’m only _five_!”

Harry choked at the thought of a _five-year-old_ describing her brother’s masturbatory habits unwittingly and catching them kissing each other’s faces. His cheeks heated up even more, and Louis grabbed his hand as they both looked at Daisy.

“Alright, Impatient Isabelle, we’re coming. Go get comfy in the tent, alright? And pick out a movie for us to watch.”

Daisy huffed and sniffled but left the kitchen, and Harry busied himself making a plate of things to eat. “Does Daisy like pizza rolls?” He asked, not looking back at Louis as he pushed some onto the plate anyway.

“Harry.” Harry felt Louis press up against him, and seconds later, Louis’ arms were wrapping themselves around his middle. Harry relaxed in Louis’ grip, but hung his head.

“I’m so embarrassed,” Harry whispered, feeling himself flush.

“Why?” Louis asked. He squeezed Harry tight for a bit, adding, “She’s seen people kiss loads of times. And it’s not like she knows…what she was telling you. She doesn’t know what that _is_.” Harry didn’t answer, and he felt Louis start to tense up. “That’s what this is about, right? Do you – have a problem with me…with me wanking? To you?”

Harry’s face flooded with heat. Thinking about Louis getting off to picturing him – _doing what?_ , Harry wondered – was…weird, but kind of flattering. Kind of made Harry proud, really, that he could…help Louis along. Harry shook his head no. “No, I don’t. Mind, I mean. I don’t have a problem with it.”

Louis nodded and squeezed him again, and then turned Harry around. “What is it? Because she saw? What’s up, love?”

Harry flushed again, but he grabbed one of Louis’ fingers and started playing with it. “It’s just – been a…weird day.” He glanced up at Louis’ face, and he huffed a little when he saw the expectant waiting in Louis’ eyes. He hitched a hip and shifted a few times, uncomfortable under the weight of Louis’ eyes and what Harry was about to say. “Erm, I was – well, it’s…been a _while_ , since. I, erm, since I…wanked,” he began, and Louis’ eyebrows rose dramatically. “No, no, don’t – do that,” Harry begged, feeling ridiculous enough _without_ Louis’ weird faces. His hands reached up to smooth out Louis’ face, and then dropped them to pick up his finger again. “It’s just – been a while, right? So I, erm…I texted Niall…” by this point, Louis’ eyes were probably mixing in with his quiff, but Harry didn’t look. “…and he said it was, like. It’s normal, to, erm, wank. To your boyfriend. And I didn’t know that? So…so I tried,” Harry coughed, taking a breath so his voice didn’t crack under the humiliation. “I tried, and – oh, _god_ , Lou – my _mum_ came in. Like, right before I…was gonna, er…finish.”

Harry let go of Louis’ finger and buried his face in his hands, leaning forward into Louis’ chest. Louis wrapped his arms around Harry’s bent form, rubbing his back softly. He didn’t say anything yet, and Harry was glad, because he wasn’t done yet.

“It’s just – what if I was, like… _saying your name_ , or something? Or what if – she just – Lou, I almost – right there, I almost- and now, she’s not even _talking_ to me, and –” Harry let himself cut off with a whining sound, and Louis pressed a kiss into Harry’s hair before he squeezed Harry tight enough to straighten him up.

“Harry, it’s alright,” Louis soothed. “My mum’s actually _seen_ me…finish. A few times. Super awkward, but she got over it. Your mum will, too. Promise.”  
Harry took a deep breath and nodded, waiting for Louis to say something about Harry wanking, but Louis didn’t. Harry looked up at Louis, who was looking sympathetic to Harry’s humiliation.

“You…you don’t think it’s weird?” Harry asked. “That I…told you about it?”

Louis looked calm as ever, if a bit confused. “Told me what, about wanking? It’s fine, love. I don’t mind if you wank to me. It’s nice, really,” he added cheekily, before the sincerity returned. “And talking to me about it isn’t a big deal, either. Boyfriends talk about everything, sweetheart. I’ll listen to anything you ever want to tell me, and I’ll tell you anything I ever want to say, alright?” Harry nodded, biting his lip, and Louis added, “And I’ll never think less of you of make fun of you for the things you say. Ever. Okay?”

Harry smiled, feeling weight lifting off his shoulders, and he nodded and slowly leaned in to press a kiss to Louis’ cheek. Louis blushed, kind of, and Harry felt a rush of power, that he could make Louis’ face change colors, just like Louis could to him. Harry smiled, quietly smug, before he turned and got Daisy’s plate ready. He snagged an apple slice left over and popped it into his mouth, and then walked into the living room, where Daisy was looking _mighty_ sleepy.

“It’s the medicine I gave her for her cough,” Louis whispered. “Put a movie in and she’ll be asleep in minutes.”

Harry picked up the movie Daisy had in her hands – _Barbie of Swan Lake_ (and yes, Louis did laugh at Harry for having that movie, but Harry sniffed haughtily and told Louis that he had learned from it as a child) – and put it in, pressing play and snuggling down by Louis. Louis petted his curls, and Harry waited until Daisy was sound asleep to roll on his side, a bit, so he could reach Louis and kiss his face all over.

Eventually, though, Louis grew restless and rolled them so that Harry was on his back again, with Louis on top of him. Harry’s breath hitched, and _the word_ got caught in his throat, and he realized he didn’t want to say it. He was feeling crazy, lit on fire, tingling all over, and he didn’t want it to stop.

“Touch?” Louis asked, lifting himself so that he still hovered over Harry, but wasn’t touching him at all.

Harry closed his eyes and shook his head, and his hands pulled down at Louis’ shirt. Louis came down, gently resting weight on top of Harry, and Harry realized his breathing was becoming erratic. He opened his eyes and looked at Louis, who was already studying him carefully.

“Touch,” Louis said decisively, and moved to get off. Harry clutched at him, but Louis kept moving so that he was on his side, pressed up against Harry from the side.

Harry turned his head, still feeling a little crazy, and whined at him.

“You’re not _ready_ for it, Harry,” Louis said gently, carding his hand through Harry’s curls. “Just – let yourself take it slow, alright? We can go slow; that’s what you need, and I’m alright with that. Just – let me kiss on you, yeah?”

Harry’s erratic breathing started slowing down, and he nodded, closing his eyes when Louis leaned on his elbow to prop himself up. Harry felt Louis pressing kisses to his cheek and temple, and Harry smiled and _hmmm_ ’d appreciatively. Louis hummed right back, smiling as he pressed his lips to Harry’s cheek, and Harry felt himself relaxing and losing all the tension from the day…

 

“Harry, wake up, love.” Harry _mrrph_ ’d moodily, furrowing his brows and burying his face deeper into Louis’ shirt. His hand bunched up the material, rested on Louis’ chest, and he whined pitifully when Louis wouldn’t leave him alone and let him _sleep_.

“Harry, babe, I have to go. Have to take Daisy home.”

Harry opened one eye blearily, focusing on Louis eventually and scrunching his eyebrows together even more. He frowned and shook his head, cheek rubbing against Louis’ shirt, and shifted so that he was more pressed against Louis. Louis sighed and carded his fingers through Harry’s hair, murmuring, “Love…”

“Can sleep here,” Harry murmured. Anything to keep Louis pressed against him, hands in his hair, warmth seeping though clothes, and arms around him. “Sleep now.”

Louis laughed quietly, the sound reverberating in Harry’s ear, and Harry smiled when Louis sighed, “Alright, then, love. Go back to sleep.”

Harry nodded, satisfied with that decision, and he nuzzled against Louis’ chest. “’Mkay,” he mumbled, already drifting off again. He felt it, though, when Louis craned his neck to press his lips to Harry’s head.


	8. Part 8.

" _Pssst_! Harry!"

Harry moaned and rolled over, scooting back into Louis’ warmth, and Louis watched through half-opened eyes as Daisy giggled. Harry sighed and smiled sleepily, relaxing as Louis slid his hand over the jut of his hipbone. Louis rubbed his fingers over the bare skin there, and Harry broke out in goose bumps and shivered.  
Daisy covered her mouth with the flat of her hand this time, and she poked Harry’s cheek. “ _Harry_ ,” she whispered loudly. “Wake up!”

"Dais," Louis muttered grumpily, but Daisy ignored him and shook Harry again.

“Mmm, what do you need, love?” Harry asked sleepily, still struggling to open his eyes. Harry shifted to his back, and he reached down to pull Daisy up on top of him. Daisy laid down on Harry’s chest and leaned her side against Louis’ chest, and Louis watched fondly as Harry wrapped his arms around her and his hands rubbed at her back.

“Feeling okay?” Harry asked, sounding concerned but also very, very sleepy.

Daisy nodded against Harry’s chest, but then she whispered mournfully, “I’m hungry, and those pizza rolls on the coffee table are cold.” She lifted her head up and Louis saw, through his half-closed eyes, his little sister give him the most pitiful puppy-dog face of anyone he’d ever seen. And obviously, Harry fell for it.

Harry nodded and wrapped his arms tighter around Daisy, and he sat up with her pressed against him. “Let’s be really quiet though, alright? Let Lou sleep a little longer,” he said, without looking back at Louis.

Daisy nodded, and Harry got up and took her into the kitchen. Louis rolled over, trying to find the warmth, and his eyes drifted shut, listening to Harry and Daisy and trusting Harry with his little sister as he drifted back off to sleep.

What felt like minutes later, Louis had the wind knocked out of him as Daisy jumped on him, screaming like a banshee. Louis’ eyes opened wide at the startle, and he spotted Harry standing in the doorway to the kitchen, watching sheepishly. “I did tell her to wake you up,” he said, looking apologetic.

Louis laughed, still a little winded, and eased Harry’s worry. “This is a typical weekend wake-up, mate. No worries.” Harry smiled and walked back into the kitchen, his spatula hanging from his hand.

Daisy snuggled into Louis, and Louis ran his hand over her forehead. “How’re you feeling?” he murmured.

Daisy smiled. “Better,” she chirped,” but I’m still coughing. Harry said he has medicine, but I had to wait ‘til you were up, ‘cause he didn’t know how much to give me.”

Louis bit his lip to hide the smile at how adorable his boyfriend was – treating his sister like she was a fragile time-bomb. “Alright,” he said, “well, let’s go check on breakfast. You can have some medicine after you eat.”

The siblings got up off the couch and wandered into the kitchen, where Harry was singing softly to himself. As Louis approached, Harry shooed them away. “Grease is popping,” he said by way of explanation, and Louis listened, not wanting to get Daisy burned.

“What’cha makin’ us?” Louis asked, smiling sweetly at Harry.

Harry scoffed dramatically and looked at Daisy. “Unbelievable,” he said. “I wake up before him, watch the children, clean the house, and start on breakfast, and he just assumes I’m making enough to feed him?!”

Daisy giggled throughout Harry’s mock-indignation, and Harry looked pleased with himself. He turned to Louis and said, “Daisy said she likes pancakes, but pancakes are just waffle wanna-be’s, and we don’t tolerate wanna-be’s in this household. Isn’t that right, Daisy?” he asked, looking down at Daisy, who nodded enthusiastically. “So we’re making waffles, and bacon and eggs, and we’ll put cheese on it and make the most amazingly unhealthy breakfast sandwich to have ever existed.”

Louis’ stomach growled, and he smiled. “Sounds perfect, H! Thanks, love.” When Daisy couldn't see, Louis puckered his lips and blew a kiss to Harry, who blushed and blew one back before focusing on flipping his egg.

Harry let Louis make Daisy’s plate, unsure of her eating habits, and sat down across from Daisy. They ate quietly, and when they were near finished, Louis reached over and grabbed Harry’s hand. “Wanna come meet the girls today?” Harry looked nervous, but he nodded, screwing his face into a smile.

"Let me text my mum and let her know I'll be out of the house all day," he said, pulling out his phone and doing just that. They were quiet, calm, for a few minutes, until -

“Are you guys boyfriends?” Daisy finally asked, looking between the two of them.

Louis didn’t let go of Harry’s hand, but in his shock, his grip did loosen. He coughed and smiled. “No, Dais, we’re not boyfriends. I like girls, silly. Remember, Eleanor?”

"But you were kissing last night, and you hold hands a lot," Daisy said, looking confused.

Louis nodded, thinking fast. "That's 'cause we're good mates. What, you don't kiss and hold hands with your best mates?" he asked, sounding like the thought was crazy.

"Yeah!" Daisy cried, defending herself, and though Louis knew she didn't, he let it go.

"See? We're best mates, is all." Louis could feel Harry’s hurt gaze, but he didn’t look away until Daisy nodded, easily convinced. When Louis finally did glance over, he regretted it almost instantly. Harry’s hand had gone lax in Louis’, and he was just rolling a bit of loose egg around the plate with his fork by his free hand. “Harry, a word?” Louis asked, squeezing his hand.

Harry shrugged, and Louis stood up and led him around the corner, into a room he hadn’t been in, which turned out to be the laundry room. It smelled a bit weird, but maybe that was just because Louis didn’t ever do his laundry. As soon as they were both in the room, Louis pushed the door shut and moved close, so Harry’s back was against the door. Louis leaned forward and started pressing kisses to Harry’s cheeks.

“Lou –” Harry moved his head, and sighed dejectedly, clearly not understanding.

Louis interrupted Harry, moving away and caressing Harry’s face to make him look up. “She’s five, Harry. She doesn’t know how to keep her mouth shut. You’re coming to meet my family - at my <i>house</i>. If my dad shows up and wants to know who you are, the younger ones’d just say, ‘oh, that’s Lou’s boyfriend, Daddy!’ because they don’t have a clue. It's alright for Lottie and Mum to know, but…the others are just too young. It’s easier to explain that I brought El last night because she’s pretty and I like pretty girls than because their father can’t stand who I am and who I like just on principle, and he wants me to be someone I’m not.” Louis was relieved when Harry nodded, looking up at him finally.

“So you’re not…like. Embarrassed?” he asked, biting the inside of his cheek.

Louis’ eyes widened in shock. “Christ, Harry, no! I’ve told you before, you’re my favorite everything, and I could never be ashamed of you. I…I _love_ you, Harry. How are you doubting that?”

Harry’s eyes glittered oddly as he fidgeted. “I mean – I mean, I know you love me, I believe you when you say it. It’s just – with the talk yesterday, and we – and I know, no matter what you say about me being…normal, and all. I mean, I know it’s not normal, the way I am. I’m okay with who I am,” he rushed, probably seeing Louis preparing to defend him, “really, I am. I like who I am. It’s just…I know it’s a little weird, and sometimes I kind of feel bad for you.”

“For me?” Louis asked, confused to hell.

“Well, _yeah_ ,” Harry said, as if it were obvious. “You’re dating _Harry Styles_. The kid who doesn’t touch.”

Louis knew this was something he and Harry would have to really discuss eventually, how Harry didn’t know how amazing he was, but he was uncomfortable with the tension, and also, his little sister was in the kitchen alone. So he grinned cheekily and looked at Harry in the most blatantly sexual way he could. “Actually, from a story a certain boyfriend of mine told me yesterday, you _do_ touch,” he said, trailing off and letting his eyes roam Harry’s body.

Harry gasped before he started laughing, blushing furiously and pushing Louis’ shoulder. “You…” he didn’t finish though, and instead, he wrapped his arms around Louis’ waist and pressed his lips to Louis’ shoulder, over his shirt.

Louis sighed and wrapped embraced Harry back, squeezing him and rubbing his back with his hands. “Just kidding, love. But really, I’m great with who you are, and you should feel really jealous of me. I’m dating the fittest and sweetest and goofiest boy in town.” He pushed a kiss into Harry’s scalp, through all those curls, and felt, more than heard, Harry’s sigh as a reaction. Finally, he patted Harry’s back. “Alright,” he said with an air of finality, “let’s go. Daisy’s probably going mad by now.”

Louis moved to open the door, but he looked at Harry one last time. “Love you,” he reminded.

Harry beamed over his blush. “Love you, too.”

While Harry went to shower, Louis put on another movie for Daisy and cleaned up (just a bit – Harry was really particular about his cleaning). Louis heard Harry wailing enough times that he finally just went upstairs, knocking on Harry’s door briefly and finding Harry standing bent over, face down on the bed with his hands in his hair, wearing nothing but the tight, tiny little black boxers covering his arse…which was up in the air, right there in front of Louis.

Louis coughed, and Harry stopped his wailing into the pillow, standing and turning, blush already formed on his face and neck, spreading to his chest. “Lou,” he said stupidly, looking dazed and a little embarrassed. Louis just waited for Harry to explain, and the boy sighed heartily. “I dunno what to wear,” he said plaintively, like it was the worst thing in the world.

Louis smiled indulgently, moving to scratch at Harry’s scalp. Harry fell into Louis’ arms, but it was clear he was very aware of his own almost-nudity, because he was a bit stiff in it. “Just wear whatever you’ll feel comfortable in, love,” Louis suggested, looking at Harry’s closet. There wasn’t much in there – not nearly as much as his own closet – but the clothes were all so _Harry_ – that weird mix of hipster and indie and granddad that was unlike any fashion sense anyone else had.

“D’you…would you pick something out for me?” Harry asked, hesitantly, peeking up from underneath Louis’ arm at him.

Louis looked over in a bit of surprise, but nodded easily enough. Of course Harry was nervous. He’d never met a boyfriend’s family before; he’d never had a boyfriend. Louis pressed a quick kiss to Harry’s temple and stepped away from him, closer to the wardrobe.

Half an hour later, they were ready and out the door, Harry dressed in a well-worn Ramones t-shirt and relatively-loose denim jeans with black converse on his feet. To be honest, Louis had wanted Harry in black-on-black (he wanted that all the time, all of the days), but it was almost a relief when he noticed Harry’s black jeans were in the washing basket, because Louis was apparently a masochist and wanted to torture himself. Black-on-black with Harry Styles was not something Louis could tolerate all day…in his house…possibly in his room…alone…

“Lou, you just drove by our house,” Daisy said from the backseat. Louis snapped out of it and blushed.

“Sorry,” he muttered as he turned around and drove up the driveway, towards his garage. It was already decorated nicely for Christmas, and Harry was looking vaguely impressed. Louis felt awkward, knowing what was coming.

“Your house is nice,” he murmured, still staring.

“Erm,” Louis said as he pressed the garage door remote, clipped up to his sun visor. Harry gaped as his garage opened, and Louis blushed a little as he parked.  
Daisy scrambled out quickly, eager to go change out of her sleep clothes and into play clothes, and Louis and Harry remained in the car, Louis not really looking at Harry.

“So, this is my garage,” Louis started off awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. Harry snorts. “Remember when I told you my dad manipulated his way out of his marriage with my mum?” Louis asked. Harry nodded. “Well…this was how he did it. He bought the house, put in everything Mum wanted, I get anything I want, the girls will get anything they want, and Mum stays married but doesn’t expect him to stay in the house with us. It’s all about his name and reputation, and that.”

Harry nodded again, and reached around to grab Louis by the neck and pull him in to press a kiss on the corner of his mouth. “’s alright, you know,” he murmured. “It’s weird, I’ve never mistaken a garage for a house, but…” he smiled. “I’ll be alright, long as the people in the house are anything like you.”

“They are,” Louis was quick to reassure him. “They’re all like me. They’re…crazy, and loud, but they’re lovely, really. My favorite girls in the world.”

Harry smiled, and said, “Well, then I’d better go make a good impression. Ready?” And Louis nodded, so they got out of the car and left the garage, Louis pausing to close the door and lock it with a code on a keypad. Louis took his hand and they walked up the path, through a layer of trees which hid the house from the view of anyone on the road. They walked past another building (“Mum’s garage,” Louis muttered), and finally, they saw the house.

Harry gasped quietly – it’s not really that it was even that big, but, Louis knew, it was pretty astonishing. Really old-timey Victorian-style, the yard was manicured well, complete with a little fountain filled with two koi fish swimming around. Louis tugged on Harry’s hand gently, pulling Harry ‘round the side of the house, instead of up the front steps (“Want to get a shower in before everyone suffocates you and interrogates you – you can hang out in my room, yeah?”).

Louis was quick in the shower, but realized in his haste to be quick, he’d forgotten his clothes. So Louis tried not to blush as Harry gasped when he saw Louis, still wet from the shower, in nothing but a towel wrapped around his hips. He also tried not to show Harry he was blushing from it, but he could feel Harry’s gaze on his back as he rifled through his wardrobe to find what he wanted.

He wasn’t prepared for Harry to come up behind him, but Harry did, and his hands shook just a tiny bit when they slid over the wet skin on Louis’ shoulders and back. Louis stayed still, but commanded his body not to tense up, and Harry stepped a little closer and pressed a kiss on Louis’ shoulder. Harry stepped closer again when Louis didn’t discourage it, and his hands slid around Louis’ sides and over his ribcage, resting high on his stomach as Harry kissed a line from shoulder to shoulder, slowly. Louis sighed at the feather-light touch and let his body relax infinitesimally, and Harry breathed out against Louis neck shakily.

“Alright, love?” Louis murmured, tilting his head to the side when Harry’s lips grazed upwards a bit, just breathing into Louis’ skin.

Harry nodded, but then he stepped back and kept his hands to himself. Louis turned and looked at his boyfriend, but Harry just smiled a bit and blushed. “You look…really nice.”

Louis grinned, amused, because the look on Harry’s face said Harry knew how stupid that sounded. He laughed a little and drawled, “I knew you only wanted me for the way I look in a towel!”

Harry giggled and reached out to hit him playfully with the back of his hand. “Get dressed, you. I can hear a gaggle of girls going mad, waiting to meet me.”

“Someone’s a bit full of himself,” Louis muttered, but he grinned and turned to pick out his clothes. “Don’t look, I’m naked,” Louis said as he dropped his towel to put his clothes on. He peeked over at Harry, who actually had a hand over his eye. Louis got his trousers on, and then he said, “I was just joking, Hazza, you can look. If you want, I mean.”

Harry nodded, dropping his hand, but he still looked away, and Louis chuckled mentally and finished getting dressed. He didn’t bother messing with his hair, as it was just his family, and Harry walked around Louis’ room, looking at all the things on the walls and shelves and stepping around the messes on the floor.

“Ready?” Louis asked, and Harry turned around with a broad smile. He nodded, and Louis pulled Harry in by the hand, gave him a hug, and kissed the tip of his nose.

They walked down the stairs, and Louis led Harry through the first story, introducing all the rooms to him ("I think that's the laundry room, there's our living room, that's the girls' play room, that's the gym, and here's the kitchen and dining room").

Louis' mum sat in the dining room with a newspaper and a cup of tea, and Louis flounced over to press a kiss into her cheek. "Hi, Mum," he greeted, squeezing Harry's hand. "This is Harry."

Jay's eyes widened and she looked over at Harry with a warm smile. She stood and opened her arms, moving towards Harry. "Harry, love, I've heard so much about you," she said, and Harry gave her a hug and kissed her cheek.

"Yeah, I've heard loads about you, too," Harry said with a smile.

Louis smiled proudly when his mum smiled a real smile, and he pulled out a chair for Harry to sit down. Harry sat, murmuring his thanks to Louis, and Louis leaned over his shoulder. "D'you want some tea, love?" he asked, nodding his head to the kitchen.

Harry nodded, eyes going soft as he looked up at Louis, and said, "Yes, please. Thanks."

Louis nodded and walked into the kitchen, and Jay started chatting lightly with Harry, asking if Daisy was any trouble the night before, or not. Louis put the kettle on as Harry was protesting that Daisy was adorable, and that they were mates earlier in the morning, and Louis glanced up and saw Jay's eyes on him. She smiled, and he returned it before sneaking two biscuits, biting into one himself and bringing the other to Harry as he sat down next to him.

Louis grabbed Harry's hand and rested it on his thigh under the table, squeezing it happily.

"Oh, Lottie, good!" Jay suddenly exclaimed, looking past Louis and Harry. Louis turned and saw his oldest younger sister, who was grinning widely.

"Hey, Lotts," Louis grinned. He turned to Harry. "Harry, this is Lottie, my oldest sister. She's eleven. Lottie, this is Harry."

Harry smiled shyly and waved, and Lottie returned it. "It's nice to meet you, Harry," she said, blushing. She walked swiftly into the kitchen, grabbed a water bottle from the fridge, and was gone.

That was weird.

Jay giggled, looking at Louis. "I think someone's got a crush," she said, looking at Harry.

Harry blushed, and Louis squeezed his hand with a chuckle.

"So, what do you think, Harry?" Jay asked. "Are you ready to meet the other girls?"

Louis opened his mouth to protest - honestly, there were a lot of them - but Harry nodded eagerly, so Louis shut up.

Jay stood and walked into the girls' playroom, and Louis pressed a quick kiss to Harry's temple. "They're gonna climb all over you," he warned as they moved to the living room for more comfort.

"'S okay," Harry murmured, looking around the living room quietly. That quiet was interrupted by Daisy's squealing to Phoebe that Harry was 'the _best_ , Phoebe, _honestly_ ', and pulling her into the living room. Felicite came along behind them, with Jay, and as Louis pulled Harry down onto a couch, Daisy climbed up and sat on his lap. Phoebe came and climbed up on Louis', watching Harry curiously, a little shy at first. Louis started playing with her hair absent-mindedly as he introduced the girls to Harry.

"So, you just met Lottie, and you already met Daisy," Louis said. He noticed Harry glancing between the identical twins in their laps, and then up to Louis, and Louis helpfully patted Phoebe's hair and said, "and this is Phoebe." Harry looked grateful and smiled at Phoebe, who leaned her cheek against Louis' chest, but smiled a little. "And that's Fliss, she's nine."

"Hi, Fliss," Harry said, and Daisy squirmed in Harry's lap, eager to get his attention. Fliss smiled and greeted him nicely, and Jay grinned across the room to Louis.

"So, I was thinking we could have lunch together, maybe go do something? All of us?" Jay suggested. "I'd like to get to know Harry," she added, throwing a smile to Harry, who blushed but smiled winningly back.

Louis and Harry shared a look; Harry seemed thoroughly content with hanging out with the girls, so Louis shrugged and said, "Sounds good to us. I'm not particularly hungry at the moment, but if the girls are hungry, we can go ahead. By the time we get there, I'm sure I'll be ready to eat again, anyway."

Jay looked surprised - Louis was usually ravenous in the morning - and asked, "Oh, have you eaten breakfast already?"

Louis grinned and said, "Yeah, Harry's a really good cook. Made me and Dais some breakfast; it was great."

Jay didn't say anything more on it, but she grinned, and she and Louis both watched as Daisy turned and asked Harry, "Could you do my hair in a braid?"

Harry looked regretful, and said, "I don't know how to do a braid, love. I'm sorry."

Daisy pouted and then glanced over at Louis, and she brightened and chirped, "Louis can show you! Phoebe will want a braid, too, so Louis can show you on her hair."

Fliss giggled and Louis said, "I don't mind teaching, him, love, but he might not be very good at it," to save Harry from having to learn if he didn't want.

Harry, however, said, "I'll try my best?" and, well. Alright, then.

Jay shooed Fliss to get ready and tell Lottie to do the same, and Louis showed Harry how to separate the hair into three pieces. The twins liked their braids on the opposite sides of their hair - Phoebe, on the left, and Daisy, on the right - so Louis and Harry's hands brushed every once in a while as Louis taught Harry how to twist them into place. "Like they're all fighting to be in the middle," he said, flipping the strand on the right into the middle, following with the strand on the left.  
Harry nodded, tongue poking out between his teeth, and followed he movement slowly, Louis waiting patiently. Daisy fidgeted, and Phoebe whispered, "Dais, stay still, he's trying so hard," making Harry blush.

When Harry was finished, it didn't really look all that bad, and Harry looked so proud of himself that Jay and Phoebe weren't about to burst Harry's bubble, so Louis was definitely glad Daisy couldn't see it herself, because she definitely _would_ say something about it. The girls ran off to go get their shoes and socks on, and the older two finally came down stairs. Fliss looked completely unbothered, but Lottie was blushing and studying her brightly-painted fingernails, avoiding eye contact. Louis noticed Harry fidgeting, as well, and he realized he'd have to find a way to break up the awkward tension.

About ten minutes later, Louis, Harry, Phoebe, and Daisy were in Louis' car, and Jay, Lottie, and Fliss were in Jay's. Jay had told Harry to decide where he wanted to eat, but Harry had just sort of shrunken in on himself and quietly asked Louis to choose as soon as they got in the car. Louis, who really couldn't care less where they ate, let the twins pick, and they ended up at Logan's, a nice steakhouse-type restaurant. It was a favorite for all the girls, and Louis drove, letting Jay follow in her car.

Louis held Harry's hand where the twins couldn't see it, and even managed a sneaky kiss to his cheek when the girls were turned around in their seats, waving to Jay behind them. The girls were chipper, and moved seamlessly between playing with their dollies and talking to Harry and Louis.

Dinner was loud - probably much louder than Harry was used to, as it was usually Harry, Louis, and Anne - but Harry seemed to be enjoying himself, especially once Louis slipped his hand under the table and placed it on his knee. After a few minutes, Harry's hand joined his, and they linked their fingers together as they ate.

Jay asked Harry a few questions, but honestly, she already knew most of the answers because Louis told her everything. It was nice, though, for Louis to see Harry getting along with his mum so well. The girls ate Harry up, too, and eventually even Lottie came out of her shell and could talk to him. The twins obviously loved Harry, and they kept begging to play with his hair - he finally said they could, but only once their hands were clean - and Fliss just liked everyone. Jay obviously loved that Harry was so respectful and sweet, and when she got the bill, he thanked her and held the door for her on the way out of the restaurant.

They decided on mini-golf, which pleased Harry, as he liked to golf when he could. Phoebe paired with Harry (" _because_ ," she whined "it's only fair, since Daisy got to spend a _whole night_ with Harry"), and Daisy paired with Louis. Fliss, who was pretty competitive, was her own team, and Lottie paired off with Jay, declaring they were both terrible and would at least have fun at it.

Throughout the game, Louis would look up and find Harry either glancing over at him, or bent nearly double, helping Phoebe out. Once Phoebe had completely warmed up to Harry, she was hyper and crazy, and Louis heard Harry laughing constantly at her silliness.

"He can't stop looking over at you, you know," Jay whispered as she passed Louis, startling him.

He turned around and looked at her. "What?"

Jay smiled and nodded towards Harry. "Harry," she clarified. "He can't stop looking over at you. It's like you're a magnet to him. That boy is in love with you."

Louis looked over at Harry, who was just looking at him. Their eyes met and they both blushed, and Louis looked at the ground, smiling. "I know," he told his mum. "He said he loved me, earlier. Before we got to the house. I said it back." Although it felt amazing to share that with someone, it was an overwhelming thought, because he'd never been in love, and he'd never seen love last.

He looked up at Jay for reassurance, and found it in her eyes. "As long as you meant it. He seems like a boy who loves forever." She placed a kiss on his cheek and went back to her hole, where Lottie was failing miserably to putt the golf ball in.

Louis and Daisy finished third place, behind Fliss, in first, and Harry and Phoebe, in second. Louis was smiling the whole time.

Once they went back to Louis', Harry realized it was actually Sunday and he hadn't done all his homework, so the girls all said goodbyes - awkward waves from Lottie and Fliss, leg-hugs from the twins and promises to let them play in his hair next time, and a hug and kiss on the cheek from Jay - and Louis grabbed his school bag, and he and Harry headed out so they could drive to Harry's and do homework.

Once they were in the garage, Louis grabbed Harry's hand and kissed his cheeks, leaving Harry beaming under the attention, and opened his door for him. Harry had paused before he got in the car, though, and placed a kiss to the corner of Louis' mouth. As he walked around to the driver's side, Louis wondered if this was Harry's new thing. Surely, he wasn't so ready to start actually kissing on the lips, so soon after they started kissing everywhere else? He got in the car and backed out, and as they were driving away, Harry grabbed his hand with a smile.

"I never knew you liked kids so much," Louis commented as he drove.

"I didn't, either," Harry said, sounding just as surprised as Louis had been all day. "Never been around any, really. Not since I was one, at least," he grinned. "But your sisters are really cute. Weird, probably, maybe, but they're cute. I liked them."

"They _adored_ you," Louis said, squeezing Harry's hand over the gearshift. "All the girls did. Mum, too."

Harry smiled and squeezed back. "I'm glad," he said quietly.

As Louis turned down Harry's road, he noticed a silver car parked in front of Harry's house he'd never seen before. "Who's car is that?" he asked, glancing over at Harry as he parked behind it.

"I dunno," Harry said casually, shrugging. "Must be the neighbors having people over again. Happens all the time."

They got out of the car, Louis grabbing his bag from the back, and walked to the house, hand in hand. Louis opened the door, glancing back and smiling at Harry behind him, just because, before he turned around and walked in. He dropped his bag in shock when he saw what was in front of him. Behind him, Harry gasped.

Harry's mum on the couch, hair mussed up, scrambling to put her shirt back on, and a mountain of a man half on top of her, scrambling to do the same.


	9. Part 9.

“ _MUM_!” Harry shouted furiously, pushing past Louis and walking down the short hallway to the living room.

“Harry!” Anne shouted back frantically as she straightened her shirt out. “I thought you’d be out all day!”

“I thought you’d be at work all day!” Harry shouted back, flinging his arms for emphasis. “Then I come home to this?! What?!”

Anne fought for words as the man stood. “I…think I should go,” he said quietly, and Harry laughed sarcastically. The laughter died when the man leaned to kiss her cheek.

“ _OI_!” Harry yelled, stepping up to him. “Get off my mother!”

Suddenly, Louis was there, grabbing Harry’s shoulders gently, but firm, and pulling him back, muttering, “You don’t want to do this, Harry.”

Harry didn’t fight Louis, but he glared at the man, who was looking between them and Anne. “Get out,” he seethed. The man looked at Anne. “ _Get out_! _Now_!”

“Just go,” Anne whispered, not looking at him. “I’ll call you.”

The man left, walking down the hall, and looked back at Anne once before walking out the door. Anne turned to look at Harry, and Harry was already glaring at her. Louis hadn’t let go.

“Harry,” Anne began, but Harry turned away, jerking out of Louis’ grasp. He stormed up the stairs, and heard Louis saying awkwardly, “I’m just gonna…”. Footsteps on the stairs sounded quickly after that.

Harry dropped onto his bed, face flat, and he heard Louis come in and shut the door.

“Harry?”

Harry hated how hesitant Louis sounded; he really needed Louis to just tell him how to feel, because he was feeling way too many different things, and he didn’t know which one was right.

Louis sat down on the edge of the bed and placed his hand on Harry’s back, rubbing his shoulders with an easy glide. “Harry, what do you need me to do? Do you want me to go? Do you want me to stay? Talk? Shut up? Go find that guy and punch him down? Only, he’s a lot bigger than us, so -”

Harry rolled over and grabbed Louis’ hand, and Louis looked down at him and stopped talking. Harry pulled on Louis’ hand, pulling Louis nearly on top of him.

“Harry –”

“Please,” Harry said, throat thick with a lump as he tried to fight tears. “Please.”

Louis stayed still and watched him, and then nodded. “Alright,” he promised quietly. “What do you need?”

Harry pulled on Louis more, and said, “Overwhelm me. Just – make it too much.”

“Harry,” Louis warned, but Harry cut him off again.

“Please. Just a little. We don’t have to – like, _do_ anything, but. I…I need to not think. I need to float and tingle and burn, please. Let me be on fire.” Harry squeezed Louis’ hand, feeling tears starting to pull at his eyes in desperation.

Louis nodded slowly, looking back and forth between Harry’s eyes. “Alright. Be quiet, though, can you do that? Can you be quiet?”

 _Be quiet_. Harry nodded; he could do that. Louis whispered something, but it didn’t matter because then, Louis was shifting, more on top of him, and Louis was pressing kisses to Harry’s face.

Harry tipped his head back, begging for Louis on his neck, and Louis picked up on it, sliding his lips down. He stayed right on the underside of Harry’s jaw, moving lower gradually. Harry was squirming, breathing erratically, and Louis patted the bed until he found Harry’s other hand, and directed them both over his shoulders.  
Harry grabbed at Louis’ back with one hand, and his other slid into Louis’ hair. Harry made a fist in it, pulling a little at Louis’ hair, and Louis moaned against his skin.

“More, god, please, more,” Harry whispered desperately, pulling at Louis’ hair.

Harry gasped when he felt Louis’ lips open on his neck, and he felt Louis’ tongue, rough on his skin. Louis went to move away, but Harry pulled on his hair to keep him there, to tell him it was good. _God, it was so good_.

Louis started placing little open-mouthed kisses all over his neck and up behind his ears, pressing them into places hidden by his curls and exposed, tongue licking out over it all. Harry whined, getting dizzy, and he squirmed underneath Louis, body moving in an arching wave. Harry felt like the thrumming in his body was leading somewhere, feeling like the fire was heading towards some massive explosion, and Harry realized he was hard in his trousers.

But Louis was slowing it down, and though Harry wanted to see where the fire was headed, he knew Louis would take care of him. Trusted him. Loved him.

 _I really love him_ , Harry thought to himself.

“Really love you, too,” Louis whispered against Harry’s neck. Had Harry said that out loud?

Harry’s body was still moving in waves, but they weren’t as big or powerful. Louis had more or less trapped Harry’s body without touching his groin, and his lips were closed again, still kissing along his skin.

Suddenly, Louis blew cold air on Harry’s neck, still slightly wet from his earlier kisses, and Harry gasped at the heat change; it was like an attack on every sense. Harry gripped at Louis desperately, smiling even through his near panic because Louis did _exactly_ what Harry had asked him to: overwhelmed him.

Harry’s mind went blank after that, and it wasn’t until he felt Louis’ thumbs on his cheekbones that he realized he was begging, “Yes, yes, yes,” and Louis was whispering “Touch, touch, touch,” in response.

Harry sighed, eyes still closed, and nodded. “Touch,” he agreed, knowing that Louis wasn’t about to overwhelm him again today. He puckered his lips up and made a kissy noise, too lazy to try to find Louis, and Louis pressed a kiss on his cheek back. Harry felt Louis’ lips stretched into a grin when they met his cheek a second time.

Louis shifted around, moving off of Harry and laying on his back, and he pulled Harry until Harry turned on his side, leaning his body against Louis. Harry nuzzled onto Louis’ neck, and when the sound from their movements and huffs of breath died down, Harry heard his mum talking to someone. Probably on the phone.

With _him_.

Harry shook his head and whined, pressing his ear hard against Louis’ chest and covering his other one, feeling all kinds of emotions coursing through his body. Louis wrapped his arms around Harry and squeezed, and it felt like Louis was holding him together.

“Tighter,” Harry said into Louis’ shoulder. Louis listened, and Harry sighed and let go of his ears, feeling like he could stand to hear, so long as Louis was holding him. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Louis nodded, his chin moving Harry’s curls around. “I’ll always take care of you,” he said. He tensed up against Harry, and Harry waited for a ‘but’. Sure enough, Louis took a deep breath. “I think…I think I want to talk about what just happened.”

Harry smiled, opening his eyes. “You took care of me,” he said, feeling the wonder in his voice.

Louis made an agreeing humming noise, but then said, “I meant…what happened downstairs. When we came home.”

Harry frowned. “I don’t want to talk about it, Lou,” he said, and it was probably the most disagreeable and the shortest he’d ever been with Louis. “Let’s talk about your birthday. It’s soon. What do you want? I’m a horrible boyfriend; I haven’t gotten you anything yet.”

Louis kissed Harry’s head. “You don’t need to get me anything, love. I have everything I want.”

Harry could hear him preparing to steer them back to the other topic, so he said, “I’d like to pretend you’re talking about here, right now with your arms around me, and say ‘awe, how sweet of you’, but then I remember what your house looks like and what your room looks like and then I realize you’re probably actually being serious.”

Louis cracked and giggled a little, flicking Harry lightly on his cheek. “Shut it, you,” he said. “We’re going to talk about this, Hazza.” His voice turned serious. “I think we need to. I need to protect you, and I need to know how.”

Harry pouted closing his eyes and resting his head again. “Just overwhelm me any time I walk in on my mother being a whore?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he felt sick. “I – I didn’t –”

But Louis was there, Louis was there again, and he brushed fingers over Harry’s face some more and murmured sweet things like “I know you didn’t mean it” and “No, your mum’s not a whore” and “I still love you, it wasn’t that bad” and “Nothing you say’s gonna make me not love you, babe”.

Harry nodded, still feeling wretched.

Louis noticed, apparently, because suddenly, he said, “Wanna get out of here?”

“Yes,” Harry responded instantly, jumping up.

“Grab your bag,” Louis told him as he hauled himself off Harry’s bed. At Harry’s incredulous look, Louis said mock-sternly, “I’m not letting you slack off just because you dazzled my family today, you know.”

Harry grinned and found his bag, piling all his books in it, and Louis took his hand and led him out of his room.

Harry’s mum came out of her room just as Louis and Harry left Harry’s, and Louis dropped Harry’s hand and turned to Harry. “I’ll – erm. I’ll wait outside, then,” he said, and walked down the stairs. Harry was still staring at his mum when he heard the front door open.

Anne stepped toward him. “Harry –” she began, but Harry raised his hand, and she stopped.

“I don’t want another man in my house,” he said, feeling uncomfortable with the way he was practically demanding his mother around.

“Harry –” his mum tried again, but he wouldn’t listen.

“The last time I found a man on top of a woman, she was getting raped, and then _he_ turned to _me_!” Harry nearly shouted, losing his temper. “I do _not_ want _another man_ in _my house again_!”

Anne burst into tears and nodded, covering her face as she stood there. Harry’s heart broke and he stepped towards his mum and hugged her, kissed the top of her head.

“I _love_ you, Mum,” he said quietly. “But the last father I had needed to be beat away with a frying pan. I’m not ever having another.” He kissed her head again, and murmured, “I’m leaving. I’ll be back tonight. Louis might stay with me. Love you.”

Harry tried not to think about his crying mother as he picked up his bag and walked down the stairs, out the door, and straight into Louis’ waiting arms.

 ---

“Where are we?”

“Shhh, you’ll ruin the magic.”

“Louis, we are literally in some run-down warehouse in the pitch black darkness in the bad part of the city.”

“And you said you didn’t know where we are!”

There was a muffled thump and Louis grunted “ _Ooof_ ,” as he fell.

“Alright?”

“’m good. Where’s your hand?”

“Right here.”

“Here?”

“No, that’s my hip, love. _Here_.”

“Oh. Sorry. Here, let’s go. Watch your step…And…”

Louis fell silent as he flicked on the lights, and Harry looked around. They were, indeed, in an abandoned warehouse. Harry looked over at Lou, unimpressed. Louis folded his arms.

“You _haven’t even seen_ the good part, yet, Harry; don’t look so uppity!”

Harry snorted and nodded. “Alright, so, show me then.”

Louis nodded and grabbed Harry’s hand again, squeezing and dragging him to a staircase, now lit. They ran up a flight of stairs, and then Louis started pulling Harry through random doors and down random hallways.

“This isn’t where you’re taking me to kill me and hide my body, is it?”

Louis scoffed. “Please, this is one of my favorite places; I wouldn’t ruin it with rotting-body smell.”

“Yeah, thanks, Lou. That was reassuring.”

Louis didn’t respond as he picked a key from his pocket and opened one last door, and pulled Harry into a room.

Harry stopped short and Louis continued on, walking in and then turning to watch Harry’s reaction.

The room was huge, and made to look like a jungle, or something. There were animals painted on the walls, like jungle cats and bears, and some animals Harry hadn’t heard of, maybe from other countries, or something, but they looked wild. There were swooping vines painted from the tops of the high walls, and trunks of trees, and bushes. On the floor, a stream was painted along, little fish randomly visible on the floor, and where there wasn’t the stream, there was a tiny little dirt-colored bank for it and then a floor painted to look like moss and twigs and dead leaves and damp ground. When Harry looked up, he saw stars – the real ones that looked like dots; not the shape kind that are too hard to draw right – and a dark blue sky. There was a window on one wall, and Harry expected from it, you could see the city, or maybe the country side, possibly – he couldn’t tell his direction – but it was covered by a curtain that was close to the colors on the walls. There wasn’t a trace of white anywhere in this room.

The furniture was all wood, except for the cushions. In one corner, there were a few beanbag chairs and just massive full-body cushions, all looking like either shrubbery or boulders. In the very opposite corner was a bed suspended from the ceiling by thick cables. The cables were painted to look like tree vines, and the bed itself was just a massive circle, and it hung low to the ground, maybe a foot up from it. The sheets and duvet were made to blend in with the floor below, where the stream ran, so parts of it looked like water and had fish in it, while other parts had pebbles and rocks and dirt, and the outer edges of it looked like the majority of the floor, all dead leaves and moss and twigs and damp dirt. There was no computer or telly, but there was a radio plugged in somewhere, and it was playing jungle-y sounds, like tweeting birds and running water and that.

“ _Lou_ ,” Harry breathed, astonished. He looked to his boyfriend, in the center of the room, and grinned.

“My dad owns this warehouse,” Louis said, and paused. “Well, actually, he owns pretty much all the warehouses in the city, but. This one wasn’t big enough for the work some company was doing, so they all left it. Dad was gonna have it taken down, but I told him to keep it, and run electricity to it. Told him I came here to get peace and quiet, to have uninterrupted sex with random hook-ups, and to practice with my band.”

“You had a band?” Harry asked curiously.

“No,” Louis grinned, “but my dad _thought_ I did, and he’s not interested enough to want to hear me sing, so it worked. This place kept me out of trouble, and I didn’t _get_ into trouble; that was our deal for this place.”

Harry nodded; that made sense. “Who painted it like this?” he said, crouching to the ground and running his hand over a particularly bright fish in the stream.

“Me and a guy I hired,” Louis said. He caught Harry’s astonished expression and smiled. “I had stencils; I painted the outlines, and the artist painted them all in. He doesn’t ever come here, though,” Louis added. “He moved away. Nobody else even knows this place exists.”

Harry stood. “Zayn and Stan?” Louis shook his head no. “Jay?” Another no. “But…you brought me?” he asked, lips starting to curve into a smile.

Louis smiled, but looked down and scuffed his feet against the painted-on dirt. “Well, yeah,” he said. “I never – I’ve never loved anyone before, not really, and you – this place is my favorite place in the world, even more than the football field. It’s where I used to come when I was lonely or upset, before – before, you know…you.”

Harry smiled stupidly, beaming, and Louis walked to the bed and patted it. “Wanna swing?” he asked.

Harry nodded and walked over slinging his school bag up on the side of it, and Louis held the bed as still as he could while Harry climbed on, and Harry grabbed Louis’ hands and helped Louis up. The bed was soft and comfortable, and with the cables all around made to look like vines, it was like they were secluded from everything else. Louis stretched and pushed off against the wall, and the bed swung to and fro slowly.

Harry sat on the bed, getting used to the swinging, and Louis pulled his bag up off the floor and pulled out some books. Harry did the same, and they worked on assignments quietly and diligently for a while.

Eventually, though, Louis laid down and pulled Harry down to nestle in with him, both on their backs. They relaxed for some unknown time – long enough for Harry’s eyes to get droopy – until Louis kissed Harry’s temple and said, “Are you ready to talk about it?”

Harry opened his eyes and looked up at Louis, who was staring up through the vines, at the stars. “You’ll think it’s stupid,” Harry whispered.

Louis looked away from the ceiling, down at Harry and brought a hand to his chin, gripping lightly. “Harry, nothing you think is stupid,” Louis said. “If it is, I’ll tell you, and we can fix it ‘til it’s smart, alright?”

Harry didn’t answer, but he smiled and tried to figure out how to explain it. “It’s – I’m okay, now,” he said earnestly. “I know what happened to me, and I know it’s horrible, and that people’s opinions of me change sometimes when they find out. But, to me…it’s like. It happened when I was _young_ , and it was only the one time, and I lost consciousness, so it’s not like I know if he did anything worse than…touch me. Had everyone not freaked out, I probably wouldn’t have ever thought about it again. It’s like…like – you broke your arm when you were little, yeah? It’s like that, to me. Your broken arm doesn’t have you freaked out about falling, it’s not emotionally scarring, really, for you, even though it changed things about you, and you probably only really think about it when someone expressly brings up broken arms. Right?” He wasn’t waiting for Louis to answer, but Louis nodded, anyway. “Right. So, like. That’s kind of how it is for me. But…like, I can…I can watch porn,” he said, blushing. “Gay porn, I mean. I can watch a guy on a guy, and it’s okay, and I don’t think about anything. But if there’s a woman involved, it’s like…it – brings it back? Not the fear, or anything, like. I wasn’t _afraid_ when I saw that guy on my mum. But it just…makes me think about that girl. My dad’s friend? And I can’t help but…I just, sometimes it’s like I think any girl under a guy is being…being raped. It’s stupid, I know, but –”

“Harry, that’s not stupid. It’s textbook psychology,” Louis interrupted. “You associated that visual with your knowledge of what happened. Even if it doesn’t come with the emotion of fear, it’s normal to associate the sight with that…urge to help, I guess? That’s not – that’s _normal_ ,” he insisted.

Harry nodded, picking at Louis’ shirt. “It’s just – I don’t want any other men in my house. The last one was…he just ruined it. He ruined everything, and I remember how much my mum cried. She tried to hide a lot from me, but I didn’t sleep as much as she thought, and I heard it a lot at night, early in the mornings, when she thought I had headphones in. Mum’s all I’ve got, Lou. I can’t let anyone make her cry. It’s…” Harry trailed off, breathing heavier as he got upset. “It’s _wrong_ , she’s my mum, and that man is gonna mess with me and make her cry.”

Louis’ fingers trailed on Harry’s cheeks, flattening out just to hold his skin against him. “What makes you think he’ll mess with you, sweetheart?”

Harry shook his head, brows furrowing. “That’s…that’s what dads _do_ , Lou. They ruin _everything_.” He sighed. “I know that I’m not gonna…like, be – messed with, or anything, by someone just because they’re a man. I’m not afraid of men. It’s just…when they’re _dads_ , they can. They can because you belong to them, and you’re theirs and they’re in charge.”

Louis nodded, and Harry was glad he understood, or was at least pretending to. “You’re not afraid for yourself, though, Harry,” Louis said, slowly, posed like a question, but Harry knew it wasn’t. Louis was saying it. “What else is it?”

Harry swallowed, and his eyes started to sting. He brought his finger up to his eyes and flicked the moisture away, taking a deep breath, and said, “It’s just. It – it’s been me and mum for years. Mum’s never…mum’s never even been on a date, far as I know. She’s not…she doesn’t need anyone but _me_. I’m…I’m _enough_ ,” Harry said, feeling inadequate even as he voiced it.

“Oh, Hazza,” Louis said, sighing as he pulled at Harry until Harry turned. “Harry, you are enough. It’s not that you aren’t.” He bit his lip. “But…your mum’s been alone for a _long_ time.”

“Maybe not,” Harry said, feeling emotionally stricken, but the words came out muffled.

“Hmmm?”

Harry lifted his head and turned it, speaking into Louis’ jawline. “Maybe not,” he said, and it sounded whiney. “Just – she didn’t tell me about this guy, and…didn’t look like she was about to. What else has she kept?”

Louis nodded, and brought a hand through his curls. “I dunno, Harry,” he said quietly. “But I think you’d do better if you went and talked to her about this, instead of me. She has those answers; I only have guesses and cuddles.”

Harry bit his lip, knowing Louis clearly wanted him to go talk to his mum. He just wasn’t ready for it. “Can…can I have your cuddles for longer?” he asked hesitantly, not wanting to hear Louis say no. “It’s just – I don’t want to talk to her yet,” he confessed, feeling rotten. “I want to stay here, in the jungle, with you.”

Louis nodded finally, and Harry sighed in relief.

“You thought I wouldn’t give you cuddles?” Louis asked seriously. Harry shrugged, not looking him in the eye. “Harry, I’ll always take care of you. I _mean_ it. Always. As long as I can.”

Harry nodded. “Because you love me,” he added.

“Because I love you,” Louis echoed. “But your mum loves you, too,” he said. “You need to talk to her. I can take care of you, but I can’t make your mum’s decisions for her, or fix your family, or change your past.”

“I don’t need you to,” Harry said quickly, not wanting Louis to change his mind. “I just – want you,” he breathed. “Just want you.”

Louis kissed his cheek, and Harry closed his eyes, leaning after it when Louis moved away. He chuckled and kissed Harry’s cheek again. “You have me.”

Harry smiled and nodded, and kissed at the corner of Louis’ mouth before he rested his head on Louis’ shoulder again, relaxing. “We have to go home tonight,” he remembered right before he went to sleep. “But you can stay.” He felt Louis nodding against his curls as he drifted off.


	10. Part 10.

“ _Lou_!”

Louis looked up at a few of his teammates’ shouts, only to see a football flying at him. It collided with the side of his head, and Louis was nearly knocked off his feet by the force of it. _Damn_ , that was a hard kick.

It stung a lot more, with the freezing cold, and Louis hissed when he pressed his hand to it.

Louis’ eyes found Harry, who was glancing over at him, concerned but not coddling him. Harry knew Louis could take a few hits, even if he was concerned about it. Louis nodded reassuringly, and Harry’s face sagged in relief, and then tightened as he looked over to Chibuzo, who had kicked it. Louis groaned internally. As if Harry needed _another_ reason not to like Chibuzo – the only other right forward, and the only one standing in Harry’s way of starting position.

As a few other teammates got close enough to see Louis’ face, they winced and made sympathetic ‘ _oooh_ ’s, and Louis squared his shoulders. “I’m alright,” he called out, and his eyes fell on Chibuzo, who was looking slightly apologetic. “Listen, mate, if you can’t get the ball to your target, don’t kick it. And if your target’s not prepared, then they aren’t your target. Use your head, yeah man?” He said it firmly, but not harsh, and Chibuzo relaxed and nodded.

“Sorry, Tommo,” he said in his strange accent.

Louis nodded and waved it off, not caring, so long as the kid didn’t do it again. Accidents happened. That was sport.

They practiced another half hour, Louis not quite managing to numb himself to the dull throb of his face, though he could ignore it. While most of the other lads on the team were easing off of Louis because of his hit, Harry was playing more aggressively – had been, really, for the past week or so.

Louis ignored Harry’s attitude, because he knew his boyfriend was still having a rough time at home and just needed something to control. Harry certainly made practice more grueling, and everyone ran harder as a result.

When practice was over, and everyone else had cleared out, Harry walked up behind Louis, who was stood at the mirror in the toilets, looking at the bruise. Louis pressed at the curve of his eye socket under his skin and winced, and Harry clucked and eased his hands over Louis’ shoulders.

“Alright?” he asked, meeting Louis’ eyes in the mirror.

Louis nodded and grabbed the bag of ice he’d put down in the sink, placing it back on his face. The bruise wasn’t bad at all – it’d probably be gone in two days, tops – but Louis was starting to get a headache. “Mind if we skip practice today?” he asked. “I’ve got a bit of a headache coming on.”

“’Course,” Harry answered, smiling softly at Louis’ reflection. He grimaced, then, and said, “My back’s hurting a little, anyway.”

Louis turned around in concern, looking at Harry. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Want me to pop it for you?”

Harry’s face turned a bit hopeful, then, and he asked, “Could you?”

Louis laughed and pushed Harry back. “Sure, sure,” he said. “Go lay down on your stomach, on the flat bed.”

Harry did that, and Louis climbed up on top of it. “I have to, like, straddle your arse,” he warned. “That okay?”

Harry nodded, turning his head to the side. “If it’ll make my back relax, you can shock me with a cattle-prod, Lou; I don’t care.”

Louis chuckled and put his knees to either side of Harry’s nearly non-existent hips. He rucked Harry’s shirt up and scooted forward so he was seated right above the little swell of Harry’s arse, placing his hands on either side of the indention of his spine. “Breathe in,” he said, letting his hands rise with Harry’s breath, “and out,” he finished, pressing down when Harry’s lungs were flat. They both heard a few little _crack_ s, and Harry grunted a little and sighed. Louis moved his hands closer to himself, a bit lower on Harry’s spine, and repeated. The crack was louder, and Harry let out a soft moan.

“ _Ohhhh_ , that felt good,” he said happily. “Bit lower’s where it hurts,” he added, and when Louis lowered his hands, he nodded. “There.” He breathed in and breathed out, and Louis pressed down with several resounding _crack_ s, and Harry moaned like an absolute porn star.

Louis felt his cock twitch and he rose up higher on his knees so Harry wouldn’t feel it and prayed he wouldn’t get hard. But Louis popped his spine again, and Harry got even louder, and a bit more guttural. Louis was probably going to die.

“Erm, hey, Hazza?” Louis tried tentatively. Harry moaned in response, which – okay, that didn’t help. “Could you, ehm. …Could you try… _not_ …doing that?”

Harry let out a sigh as Louis shifted a bit. “Do what?” he asked, craning his neck to see Louis.

“Doing that – erm – that _moaning_ thing. It’s…affecting me,” he confessed, feeling awful. He knew it was a normal reaction, but he always felt bad after initiating sexual discussions with Harry, mostly because Louis didn’t feel like Harry was ready to be talking to his boyfriend about their boners.

Harry blushed, and Louis saw it spread down his back, even. He decided to climb off the flat bed and give Harry some space, so he said, “I’m gonna go shower, yeah?” and walked to do just that, grabbing a towel as he walked.

Louis didn’t really _scrub_ , but he stood under the decidedly cold water, assuring himself he would wank before bed, and thought about his wrinkly (although still lovely) old nan, and her dentures and fanny pack she never left the house without. He thought about vaginas and lipstick and tampons, and finally, Louis was alright. He hadn’t heard so much as a squeaky hinge of a locker from Harry, so Louis shut off the water and toweled off, quickly making his way to his locker, where his clothes were.

“Harry?” he called out, looking around.

“I’m just outside,” Harry called.

Louis walked to the entrance of the locker room and found Harry on his phone and blushing deeply. “Harry, why are you outside in the cold?” Louis demanded, pulling at his sleeve. “You’ll catch your death out here, come on, come inside.” Harry gave in, then, and came inside and shut the door. “Why were you out there?” Louis asked, watching Harry carefully.

Harry blushed again, but stayed looking at Louis as he said, “I just – thought you would…ehm. I thought you’d – wank, in the – in the shower? So I thought I’d just…give you some privacy, is all.”

Louis gawked at his boyfriend. “Harry, I wasn’t going to the shower to _wank_ ; I was going to sit under cold water and think about vaginas and wrinkly old _nans_!”

Harry laughed, shocked, and said, “Oh, okay, then.”

Louis stared at him incredulously and said, “What, you thought I’d just get my cock out and wank with you fifteen feet away?!”

Harry made a choking sound when Louis said ‘cock’, but he coughed and said, “I – I didn’t know. Just thought – I mean – it’s my fault you were…so I figured it’d be the least I could do –”

Louis sighed, “Harry, you are such a frustratingly polite person.” He pressed a kiss to Harry’s cheek and said, “If I’m wanking, I’ll wait to do it in my _room_ , alright? Or, you know, when - way down the road, if we’re – you know. Just…I won’t wank if you’re in the next room over, alright? Just for future reference.”

Harry blushed deeply, but nodded, and he took a deep breath like he wanted to say something. Louis waited patiently, and soon enough, Harry said, “Can we – go to the Jungle again? I just – I want to talk to you, but I don’t want the girls to overhear, and it’s still a bit _awkward_ at my house…” he trailed off, looking uncertain, and Louis swallowed tightly.

“’Course, Harry,” he said, trying to inject some cheer into his voice. “We can go. Let me finish packing my bag up and we can go straight from here, yeah?”

Harry nodded in relief, leaving Louis to worry as he packed up his things.

 ---

“So, what was it you wanted to talk about?” Louis said as he turned the key to the Jungle.

Harry blushed and walked in, speeding to the bed and hopped up on it, making it swing and sway. Louis watched him – _honestly_ , how could he not? Harry was so fucking beautiful – and Harry patted the bed next to him.

“I want to talk to you about – about me and you,” Harry said, blush getting deeper as he stared at the duvet.

Louis crossed the room and hoisted himself up, and when they sat facing each other with their legs crossed, Harry grabbed one of Louis’ hands and started tracing the marks on his palm.

It tickled, and Louis murmured, “You know you can tell me anything,” to soothe Harry.

Harry looked up into Louis’ eyes, and Louis saw a bit of desperation, some hope, and some nerves. He leaned forward and kissed Harry’s forehead, and Harry closed his eyes.

“Basically, lately, I’ve been… _thinking_ ,” Harry began, and Louis forced himself not to react; it could literally be _anything_.

“Just – I know it’s probably, like, _hormones_ , or whatever, ‘cause I’m fifteen, and I’m almost sixteen, and all of that,” Harry babbled, not looking Louis in the eye, “but I’ve been, like…erm, having more. More, erm, _feelings_ ,” he emphasized, sticking his neck out towards Louis without looking at him.

The information sunk in - “Harry, are you telling me you’re having dirty thoughts more often?” he asked, making a valiant effort at keeping his lips from curving upward.

Harry blushed like a tomato, but he coughed and nodded. “Erm, yeah, that’s – that’s what I’m saying,” he confessed, finally glancing up at Louis. He took a deep breath and confessed, “ _And-I-think-I-might-want-to-go-a-little-bit-further-with-you_.”

Louis swallowed around the sudden _something_ in his throat and leaned forward. “Harry, if you feel like you're ready to do… _more_ , then…I mean, that’s fine. I’m hardly going to say, ‘ _No_ , incredibly fit and accidentally seductive and sensual boyfriend of mine, back away, _please_ don’t let me pleasure you and be pleasured in return’.”

Harry snorted. “Just our luck, I’ll be horrible at _everything_ we’ll try and you’ll never get off, and you’ll have to wank for the rest of your life.”

He didn’t mean it - Louis was _sure_ Harry hadn’t meant to imply they’d be together for the rest of their lives - but Louis beamed anyway, resulting in a strange look from Harry. Louis’ brain caught up with him, then, and realized what Harry had actually said. “You’ll be fine,” Louis assured him quickly. “And it’s no rush, babe, really. We – I don’t want you doing _anything_ if you have even a second’s worth of second thoughts.”

Harry nodded. “I – you’ll, like… _teach_ me, right?” He asked, looking uncertain and suddenly young. “Only, I don’t want – I mean, I don’t want to be _bad_ at – everything, you know. I want you to…to like it. With me. Like being with me.”

Louis’ heart melted a bit, and he leaned forward and kissed Harry’s face a few times, just enough to make Harry giggle, and then he sat back again. “Honestly, though? At the risk of sounding like a sap, I think as long as you don’t, like…do anything to make my dick actually _fall off_ , I think _anything_ we do together is gonna be amazing.”

Harry beamed at him, looking hopeful, but then he frowned. “So it’s – it’s all up to me?” he asked, sounding like that thought bothered him.

Louis nodded seriously. “You – I don’t know what goes on in your head all the time, Harry. I’d rather not risk you actually hyperventilating and passing out on me. You – I mean, you don’t have to make the first move, or anything; I know you don’t like that.” Harry’s entire body sagged in relief, and Louis smiled. “But I can’t make your decisions for you. You have to be sure about it and tell me when you want more, or less.”

Harry paused and fiddled with his hands before he said, nearly in a whisper, “Well, there was – after I met your family? And we – we came home to mine, and –” he swallowed. “We saw – my mum?” He looked up, eyes begging, and Louis nodded. “And you – you stopped, that time. And then before that, when your sister was asleep, you stopped then, too.”

“That’s – that’s different, Harry,” Louis said, biting his lip. “It’s one thing to _stop_ , when it’s getting too much –”

“But what if you stop when it’s _not_ too much?” Harry countered.

“I – it can get too much for me, too, Harry,” Louis said slowly, looking Harry straight in the eyes and willing him to understand. “It’s a struggle for me, sometimes, love. _That’s_ why I stop. I don’t want to get carried away and frighten you, or make you uncomfortable, is all. I don’t want to break your trust.”

Harry broke the eye contact and played with his bracelets. “Sorry,” he whispered.

Louis reached out and tipped his chin up, eyes softening as he looked at his boyfriend. “For what?” he asked. “It’s not a bad thing. What are you sorry for?”

Harry looked down and back at Louis again before he answered. “I just – I know you’re used to just going for it, because the boys you used to be with just _wanted it back_ – not that I _don’t_ want it,” he rushed, looking horrified, “because I _do_ , I _really do_ –”

“It’s okay, love, I know what you meant,” Louis said with a chuckle. “But really, you have to stop thinking about it like that. I’ve not really _dated_ much, so the blokes I hooked up with – they were just, like…not important, mostly. And what we have isn’t special because you’ve never done anything sexual; it’s special because I’ve never _loved_ a boyfriend – or anyone who wasn’t Zayn, Stan, or the girls, really – and I’m _crazy_ for you.”

Harry nodded, and Louis leaned far over to push off against the wall of the Jungle, making the bed sway a bit. He scooted back against the vines and laid his head back with a serene smile, glad they’d had that discussion.

He had felt Harry moving around, but just assumed he was laying down, or moving to lean up against the vines, too, but suddenly, there was a weight in his lap. Louis looked down and saw Harry’s face, his head resting hesitantly against Louis’ lap. Harry looked up at Louis, unsure if this was okay, and Louis smiled and brought his hands to move through Harry’s hair.

Louis stroked through Harry’s hair serenely for a bit before Harry cleared his throat and asked, “Will you – kiss me?”

Louis’ eyes opened slowly and he looked down at Harry, met his eyes and looked for a shred of doubt or guilt or desperation. Upon finding none, Louis nodded, and Harry scrambled up out of Louis’ lap, sitting with his legs folded under him, identical to Louis, and scooted close enough that their knees were touching. Louis watched as Harry moved himself around, trying to get comfortable, and then paused, looking at Louis uncertainly.

Realizing Harry was probably waiting for Louis to make the first move, he licked his lips and said, “You’re sure?” Harry nodded nervously, and, well…that was that. He put his hands on Harry’s thighs, as close to the boy’s knees as he could possibly get without gripping the actual bone of it, and said, “Puff your lips out, just a – yeah, like that. Close your eyes? Alright. Here – here goes.”

Louis’ hands slid up Harry’s thighs barely an inch, more on accident than from habit, as he leaned in. He pressed his lips to Harry’s, kept them there for a few seconds, and backed off, just a few inches away, and he could taste Harry’s breath as they breathed together. He realized he hadn’t really registered anything – what Harry’s lips had felt like, pressed against his, if he could feel the heat on Harry’s cheeks radiating from the close proximity, if he felt Harry press his lips back – and he wanted to do it again.

“Again,” Harry whispered, unknowingly answering prayers as his hands came from clenched in the duvet to cover Louis’ hands on Harry’s thighs. “Please,” he breathed, leaning forward with his eyes still closed.

Louis closed his eyes again and leaned forward, whispering, “Okay” against Harry’s lips before pressing them together firmly. Harry’s hands squeezed Louis’, but Harry didn’t make a sound until Louis drew back again.

“I could do that forever,” he said in a hushed tone, opening his eyes slowly. Louis noticed Harry’s eyes were a bit darker, now.

“You know what I could do forever?” Louis asked. When Harry looked at him in askance, Louis just pushed Harry down on his back, falling with him and rolling off to the side, tucking into Harry as best as he could. “ _This_ ,” he said with a contented sigh, feeling like he was where he was supposed to be. “I could just lay with you forever.”

They did just that, each of them sneaking a hand into the other’s hair, scratching at the scalp and twisting strands of it around their fingers and sighing when they felt the same being done. Harry pressed into Louis a bit closer than normal, and Louis felt Harry pressing lips into his hair more than usual – and not that Louis was complaining, or anything, but…it was a little unusual.

“So…how’s things with your mum?” Louis asked, purposefully tucking his head so he didn’t have to face Harry’s glare. “Talked to her about…that guy yet?”

Harry was quiet for a minute, and then he mumbled, “No. We’re – _talking_ to each other again, a little. Not much, really. Mostly just thank-you’s for cooking dinner for her, or my telling her I’m going out with you. That kind of thing.”

Louis didn’t want to push Harry, so he just nodded, nuzzling closer to Harry for the younger boy’s benefit. Harry liked being needed. When Louis felt Harry smile into his hair, he said, “Don’t remember if I mentioned it yet, but my party’s next week. Next Friday, at my house.”

Harry giggled. “Yeah, you might’ve mentioned it a time or twenty.”

Louis laughed into the hoodie covering Harry’s collarbone and lifted his head to look up at him. “Will you come? I know it’s not really your _scene_ , or whatever,” he said with a smile, remembering the first time Harry told him that, in the parking lot of McDonald’s. Harry smiled, like he was remembering, too. “But…” Louis looked at Harry as innocently as he could and trailed a finger in circles around Harry’s chest. “But I really want you there with me, you know.”

“Yeah?” Harry asked, looking amused. Louis nodded, jutting out his bottom lip in a pout as Harry’s face turned doubtful. “But won’t all your friends be there?” he asked, looking apprehensive.

“ _Yes_ ,” Louis said certainly, nodding and asserting his devil-may-care face. “I want to introduce you, let them all see how lucky I am.” Harry chewed on his lip, and Louis felt a little bad, so he gave in. “Liam and Niall are coming. You can invite Andy, if you want.”

“Liam and Niall are coming?” Harry said suspiciously, like Louis would lie to him about it.

Louis nodded, though, and repeated, “You can invite Andy, if you want.”

Harry shook his head absentmindedly. “Andy’s more of Liam’s mate. He’s a good guy and all, but he’s a bit of a…he’s a bit _disagreeable_ sometimes. Wouldn’t be welcome with your mates.”

Louis nodded; he’d heard some of the things Andy had said before, and Harry was right; Andy wasn’t popular among his mates. “Well, yeah. I invited Liam, and Zayn had already told me he was bringing Niall. As his _date_ ,” he added with relish.

Harry smiled. “They’re doing quite well, aren’t they? I’m a bit impressed.”

Louis nodded, realizing they were off-topic. “So will you come? You can stay the night, and we’ll eat all the left-over food once it’s over.”

Harry snorted. “ _Niall’s_ coming, Lou.”

“Right,” Louis said with a grin. “Maybe not left overs then. Our kitchen’s always stocked, either way. So?”

“What if…what if I don’t like it?” Harry asked. “Could I just, like…go up to your room, watch a film, or something?”

“You’ll like it,” Louis said, confident he’d make the party worth Harry’s while. “It’s not, like a _massive_ one, because the girls’ll be home, and I don’t want them around that kind of atmosphere yet. There’ll be alcohol, but I’m personally not going to drink, maybe a beer or two, but nothing much. And good music - and _dancing_ , Harry, we can _dance_!” Louis’ face was practically _begging_ Harry to come, and he could tell Harry was about to give in. “If you don’t like it, we can go up to my room and I can kiss you ‘til you fall asleep,” he said, using his last bargaining tool.

Apparently, it worked, because Harry swallowed and nodded. “Okay,” he said with a grin. “I’ll do my best to hate it.”

Louis squawked indignantly and hit Harry on his stomach with the back of his hand, and Harry burst out laughing. “Cheeky twat,” Louis said affectionately while Harry laughed. Harry was still laughing when Louis leaned down to kiss him.


	11. Part 11 [1/2].

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Here's another chapter with Harry's past being mentioned and dealt with. If the following upset/offend you, please refer to the bottom of the page, and I'll give a nice chapter summary:  
> Underage masturbation, mentions of pornography (with daddy!kink), excessive vomit (sorry), trigger warning: mentioned trauma of past sexual abuse.

“Oh, my fuck - I think Zayn’s gonna break up with me,” Niall blurted as soon as Liam shut the door on his way to the toilet.

Harry looked up from Louis’ text and gaped at his best mate. “ _What_?” Harry asked incredulously. “You’ve been dating for, like, a month! How can he want to break up with you?”

Niall looked down and blushed, and then looked back up at Harry, sitting on his bed. “I think it’s ‘cause I haven’t fucked him yet. Or – let him fuck me, I guess.”

“What? No,” Harry denied quickly, trying to taper down his blush and focus on comforting Niall. “No, Zayn’s a nice guy, he wouldn’t –”

“He’s a nice guy, yeah, but not all nice guys are _Louis_ ,” Niall said, sighing and running a hand through his hair. “It’s just – the Tommo’s great and all, really, and he’s fuckin’ perfect for you, but he’s not exactly acting like a _normal_ teenage lad, is he?”

Harry swallowed the slowly rising anxiety creeping up his throat, and he laughed to hide it. “Niall, I’ve got me and you and Liam acting as my guide to ‘normal’ teenage lads. I hardly think I know what’s actually _normal_.”

“Alright, you,” Niall muttered, but he got serious as he squirmed around to fold his legs under himself. “Normal guys – they aren’t so damned _patient_ , like Louis’ being, Hazza. That’s the thing. Guys break up with people for not having sex _all the time_. And…I mean, I just don’t know, he’s been patient and I just reckon his patience’s gonna run out – and you add the hydrogen to make it a covalent bond,” he finished as Liam opened the door and came back, giving Harry a significant look to not mention it to Liam. Harry nodded imperceptibly and tried to ignore the panic making itself known, and looked down to his chemistry homework in silence.

Liam went downstairs to get them all drinks (“I’m _so_ thirsty, but I’m real sore, practicing all those hard hours so I can play a little bit instead of having to sit on the bench the whole season,” Harry complained mournfully, and Liam sighed and got up) and Harry glanced at Niall, who had fallen sulky and quiet.

“Have you – tried anything?” Harry asked. “I mean, if you’re not – ready, then –”

“I’m _ready_ ,” Niall interrupted, “ _fuck_ , I’m so ready. We just don’t have the _time_ to, is all. We’ve done everything else – blow jobs, hand jobs, sexting, phone sex -and, my _god_ , he’s _amazing_ at dirty talk –”

“Dirty talk?” Harry asked, feeling his cheeks heating up at the context. “What’s – I mean, that’s something you’re supposed to do? I thought that was just…like, _porn_.”

Niall laughed, but cut himself off – probably remembered Harry was a sensitive lad – and said, “ _No_ , mate. That’s proper, like…if you wanna get things _movin’_ –”

“That’s _exactly_ what I want,” Harry said, feeling excited as he thought about kissing Louis a bit more, maybe with tongue, if Louis wanted. “How do I – I mean, could you…” Harry blushed. “I don’t want to do it with _you_ ,” he defended himself, “but I – I don’t know…”

Niall looked at Harry incredulously for a split second before he smiled and ripped out a piece of paper from his notebook and started scribbling on it. “Here,” he said, handing Harry the paper. “Go to this website,” he said as he circled the url at the top, “and type in this guy’s name. He’s really good for learning how to talk dirty.”

“Yeah?” Harry said, gingerly taking the piece of paper. Niall nodded, and Harry quickly stuffed the paper under his binder when Liam came in carrying three cups, pushing the door open with his back. Harry thanked Niall with his eyes, and Niall winked.

\---

Harry carefully wedged a chair under his doorknob. His mum rarely came into his room, lately, what with them not exactly speaking too much, and she always knocked – nearly pounded the damn door down, really, and waited until Harry stopped whatever he was doing and opened the door himself – but Harry would rather not have a repeat of his last wanking experience.

Almost like Niall _knew_ , Harry’s phone went off:

_Good luck! Have fun. Pay attention; he’s brilliant, mate, really._

Harry silenced his phone and left it on his desk. He grabbed his laptop and took it over to his bed, where he took off his clothes and laid down, already half-hard from thinking about learning how to get Louis hot and excited. He stroked himself once before he opened up the internet and typed in the url Niall had given him. It was a gay porn site, and though Harry had been to them before, a few times, he blushed at some of the thumbnails for photos and videos, and the captions underneath them. In the top right corner, Harry clicked the search bar and typed in the name written on the sheet. He swallowed and clicked ‘search’, and dozens of pages came up as a result.

Harry clicked the first one, not bothering to read the description or even title – all he could think about was getting Louis motivated to kiss him some more.

The link was a ten-minute clip of the video, and Harry’s eyes widened as he saw penetration as soon as the video started. It worked, though – Harry felt the familiar swooping of arousal in his stomach and his breath hitched. He dropped his hand to his groin immediately and started stroking himself, flicking his wrist and thumbing over the head of his penis.

It was an older man – maybe forties or fifties, but still attractive enough – ramming into a twinky young thing - a bit emo, with gauges and swoop-y hair, the tip of his fringe bleached in stark contrast to his black, and a purple streak down the middle – bent over the arm of a couch. Harry flicked his wrist a little harder and stroked faster as the man, pounding into the younger man, panted out, “Like that, yeah?”

The younger one moaned and nodded, and the man pushed the back of his neck, bending him a bit more. The man gripped the emo boy hard around his hips, snapping his own harshly and moaning, “God, you’re so tight, so tight for me.” Harry felt a thrill rush through him, and he couldn’t decide who had it better – the older man, or the younger one. Both seemed appealing and _dead_ hot, if he was being honest.

Harry tightened his grip and his hips bucked into it as he heard the younger one nearly shouting, “Fuck me! Fuck me harder, _please_ , fuck me –” he choked off on a whine, and the older one grunted and thrust harder.

“I’ll fuck you harder, baby,” he said. “Daddy’ll fuck you harder.”

Harry’s blood froze.

The porn kept going, and now the boy was whining into the couch, what sounded like “ _Daddy, Daddy, Daddy_ ” and Harry saw his father’s mean eyes, circling around above his head, glaring down at him. Harry slammed the laptop shut and shoved it away like it was a venomous snake. It fell off the edge of the bed and toppled over.

When Harry’s vision started fading, he realized he needed to breathe, and he started gasping for air, choking on the burn of inhaling too quickly. He gazed down his body and noticed he was still a little bit hard, not all the way soft.

Harry needed to vomit.

He jumped up from the bed, wrenched the chair away and threw it behind him and yanked the door open, gagging as he lurched across the narrow hall into the toilet, making it just in time to throw up into the bowl, light still off and stark naked. The door swung shut behind him, leaving him in total blackness, alone and sickened. Tears streamed down his face as he retched, acid burning his throat and the smell filling his nose and making him gag more.

When there was nothing left in his stomach, Harry was still gagging, coughing and sobbing on each retch, clutching the sides of the bowl and trying not to make any sounds, because it all hurt his throat. Just as he thought he was finished, there was a gentle tap on the door, and his mum’s voice floated through it, concerned and anxious.

“Harry, are you alri – _oh_.”

Harry felt another wave of shame and self-disgust, and he gagged as his mum peeked around the door, seeing her son – kneeling at the toilet, naked and shaking, dry-heaving and sobbing over it.

Harry wiped his mouth and turned quickly, realizing she was looking at him. He felt another wave of nausea coming over him, and he whipped around to brace himself, and nothing came up but bile, burning his stomach and throat and leaving a desperately ugly taste in his mouth. “Louis,” he sobbed, wiping his mouth and turning to his mum with tears flooding his face. “Get out. Go away. Call Lou –” he turned and gagged again, and stayed bent over as he reached up with a shaky hand to flush and get rid of the horrid smell.

When he looked back, Anne was gone, and Harry retched once more as he realized what he’d just watched and had nearly gotten off to.

He was still on his knees, perched over the toilet, though his shaking had reduced to simple trembling, when there was another knock on the door. “’s me,” Louis called through it, and Harry let out another sob, realizing with shame that he was still naked and there was vomit all over him – in the tips of his hair, on his face and throat, down his chest, some on his thighs.

“Don’t – don’t look,” he whined, putting his forehead on the edge of the toilet, closing his eyes in shame. He heard the tap run and the sounds of a rag being squeezed, and his eyes opened when he felt Louis kneel on the floor next to him.

He looked over just as Louis’ eyes reached his, and there was no pity – only worry. Harry started crying in earnest, now, and Louis pulled him into his arms. Harry started to protest weakly – there was nothing he wanted more than for Louis to hold him, but he was covered in vomit – but Louis shushed him and rocked him, just enough to feel it without getting sick again, and Louis peeked around Harry’s shoulder and brought the rag up to his face.

Harry let Louis clean him off, wiping down his face and throat and his chest, but his eyes opened and he tensed when Louis did, hesitating to wipe below his belly button. Harry looked over his shoulder to Louis, who was already watching him, and he nodded. Louis nodded back, and Harry screwed his eyes shut against the panic –

There was none.

Harry opened his eyes again as Louis started wiping his thighs, avoiding his groin but pressing in where some of his spew had already dried, up towards his knee. Harry cringed in disgust and Louis made soothing sounds, shushing him quietly as he pressed a kiss to Harry’s shoulder.

The fight and pride gone by now, Harry collapsed back into Louis, and Louis wrapped his arms around Harry’s chest, tight like Harry liked. He made a disagreeable sound, though, when he realized there were bits in Harry’s hair. Harry blushed, but Louis only stood and rummaged through the cabinets until he found one of Harry’s headbands.

Louis wetted his hands and quickly flicked out the bits, straight into the rag. Harry tried to swallow around his gag, but he didn’t make it, and Louis jumped out of the way as Harry lurched towards the toilet bowl. Nothing came out but bile, of course, but it burned Harry’s throat and left his mouth hot and Harry whimpered at it. Louis shushed again and finished with Harry’s hair, and then pulled it back into his headband. Harry was compliant, a bit numb, completely relaxed as could be, knowing Louis was there and would take care of him.

Harry felt himself being pulled up, and he did his best to cooperate, but his legs were really shaky, so Louis braced him against the sink. Louis grabbed Harry’s toothbrush and put toothpaste on it, giving Harry a sympathetic grimace and said, “You need it, love; sorry.” He didn’t put as much toothpaste on it as Harry usually did, but Harry took it gratefully anyway and started bristling his teeth clean, nearly scrubbing the buds _off_ his tongue in desperation for the taste to be gone.

When Louis walked out, Harry pulled his toothbrush out of his mouth and spit, feeling shame creep back in, and doubt, this time, too. He put his forehead to the cool counter top of the sink, and started crying silently, too exhausted to get really into it. Louis probably thought he was such a loser, and a baby. He could try and pass it off for feeling ill, if he hadn’t been perfectly fine at football practice earlier. If he hadn’t been in wonderful spirits when Louis dropped him off and kissed his lips in the car. If he hadn’t been _crying like a baby_.

“ _Daddy, Daddy, Daddy_.” It echoed through Harry’s head, just like his horrible, self-loathing thoughts about Louis, and what Louis probably thought about him now.

“Harry, shhh, shhh, it’s alright,” Louis soothed, pushing open the door. Harry heard something drop to the ground and felt Louis’ hands rubbing his bare back, staying mostly close to his shoulders. Harry turned and wrapped his arms around Louis, squeezing him tight and not even caring he was naked and pressing himself against Louis’ body. Harry got as close as he could possibly get, backing Louis against the wall and sobbing into the crook of his neck and shoulder as he dug his fingers into Louis’ shirt, twisting the fabric into bunches and leaning his head uncomfortably just to press his cheek to Louis’ neck.

Louis gripped Harry back, too, and Harry let out a sigh mixed with a sob and it sounded so weird that both he and Louis had to laugh a little. Harry pressed kisses along Louis’ neck and shoulder, almost desperately, and it was like a kick to the gut when Louis squirmed away, not wanting it.

Louis must have seen the look on Harry’s face, because he said quickly, “I still love you, Harry, it’s okay, we’re okay, we’re good, alright?” Harry let out a sob of relief and put his face in his own hands, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes to stop the waterworks. He nodded and listened as Louis continued, “You can’t just – you have to deal with things, Hazza, alright? You can’t just have me squeeze you and kiss you and stuff and think it’ll go away. Whatever’s got you _throwing up until you’re hoarse_ and _screaming at your mum_ to call me over...whatever it is, you need to deal with it, somehow. I’ll help you, if you want, if you need, but you can’t ignore it, or it’ll happen again. …Okay?”

Harry shook his head, trying to make Louis understand quickly as possible. “No, no that won’t _ever_ happen, _ever_ again,” he said certainly. He would never watch porn like…like _that_ …ever, ever again.

Louis sighed, and it looked like he was disappointed. Harry looked at his feet, wondering what he’d done, and he noticed a bundle of clothes on the floor.

Louis noticed Harry looking at them, and bent down and grabbed them. He passed the clothes to Harry, who felt his cheeks stain pink. Louis hadn’t left because he didn’t love Harry; he’d gone to Harry’s room to get him clothes. Harry’s grateful smile wobbled in his embarrassment, and Louis sighed again, and pulled him in.

“Hazza, you’ve gotta stop being embarrassed around me, alright?” he begged, sliding his palm over the back of Harry’s head. “’s just _me_ ,” he added, letting the edges of his fingers wiggle through Harry’s curls to scratch a bit at Harry’s scalp.

Harry nodded, agreeing – Louis wasn’t going to judge him. “Sorry,” he croaked, throat sore and wrecked. Louis just nodded in response, and Harry sighed and pulled away, reaching for the clothes. “Thanks,” he added before stepping into his boxers. He pulled on the sweats – the baggiest and most worn ones he had, honestly, Louis was _perfect_ for knowing – and socks next, as his legs and toes were freezing from being on the floor so long. He ran his hands through the tap and then through his hair, just a once-over to make sure Louis had gotten everything out. He’d definitely be showering, but he didn’t want to yet.

Louis took his hand and pulled him back to his room. Harry side-eyed his computer before he grabbed it and roughly dropped it on his desk, and then he grabbed his phone and pulled Louis down onto the bed with him.

Harry stretched out as long as he could and pulled Louis into position, making sure they touched from shoulders to toes. Harry was a tiny bit taller, but he didn’t really care because he was definitely the one being held, once Louis wrapped his arms around Harry.

“Someone say something on there?” Louis asked, and Harry looked up to see Louis looking over at his computer.

“…Something like that,” Harry said, but he knew he wouldn’t get away with it.

Sure enough, Louis raised an eyebrow and Harry sighed and sat up, folding his legs and making sure to press his knees against Louis’ stomach when Louis turned on his side to see Harry better.

“So, really, it’s Niall’s fault,” Harry started in a croak, trying to lighten the mood, but Louis’ eyebrows went up and he looked a bit like someone to be frightened of, so Harry hastened to say, “Only joking! I mean, kind of, but this isn’t Niall’s fault.” Louis calmed down, and so did his eyebrows, and Harry continued slowly, blushing. “I – well, Niall – wait, you can’t tell Zayn this, okay?” Harry asked, remembering Niall hadn’t wanted Liam to know, so he probably wouldn’t want Zayn knowing, either. Louis’ eyebrows rose again, but he nodded reluctantly. “So, Niall said earlier he thinks Zayn’s gonna – gonna finish with him.” Harry watched Louis’ face for clues, being a good best mate, and was relieved when Louis’ face looked incredulous. “He said it ‘cause they haven’t…well, they haven’t been… _fully intimate_ ,” Harry said, trying to put it delicately. Louis nodded, like he knew that, and Harry continued. “So, he started talking to me about what they _have_ done, and – he, erm, he mentioned…phone sex.”

Louis’ face looked shocked, like he wasn’t expecting phone sex to pop up into conversation, and Harry laughed a little. “Well, he – he mentioned…mentioned, like, _dirty talking_? And I, erm, might have…asked a few questions. And so, like, Niall wrote down this…” Harry blushed a fierce shade of scarlet as he choked out, “porn site…a site I could, erm, go to and, like… _learn_? ‘Cause he said – he said it’d be a good way to…to make you want to do more – I know you already said you want it,” he said quickly, not wanting Louis to interrupt. “I know, but I thought – maybe I could get, like…get it a _normal_ way? ‘Cause it’s not – it’s not normal to have to ask your boyfriend, yeah? And I – I wanted to see if maybe I could – could get something like normal couples do.” He watched as Louis’ face changed around.

Louis’ face settled on adoration, and he stroked Harry’s knee as he said, “But I _like_ that we’re not a normal couple, in that way. I mean, we’re normal every other way, yeah? We care about each other, care _for_ each other. We can hang out and not have to be going at it like mad, but we can still waste time just kissing. And we go and play football, and get dirty and wet and play like teammates, and not like lovers. I love our relationship. So…don’t feel like you – need to _change_. You _or_ us. I love you, for who you’ve always been, not for who you _could be_ if you changed. And I love our _relationship_ for what it is, and not what it _would be_ if you were any different.”

Harry watched Louis’ face, paying attention to the sincerity pouring out of it, and went pink. “Okay,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’ll – I’ll remember that.” Louis smiled a little, and then Harry picked up from where he left off. “So, I – well, I – I went to the site, right? And I typed in the – the _name_ , the name of the guy Niall told me to, so I could, erm, learn, how to – yeah. And I clicked on the first one I saw, and I – it was a, erm. It was like, a…like a _daddy_ …thing.”

Louis’ face morphed instantly, and he leaned to press his lips against Harry’s knee, over his sweats. Then he pushed himself up and grabbed Harry by the back of the neck and gently pulled him down on top of him.

Harry went willingly, and sighed as Louis pressed their lips together. Then he remembered what was really bothering him.

He lifted his face away from Louis’, and sighed and rolled off to the side. “That’s – there’s more,” he said, “just a little.” Louis nodded and licked his lips, and Harry said, “It’s just – like, he started saying it – saying, erm, like – saying ‘daddy’ a lot? – and then I shut my computer, and I kinda threw it, like off my bed. And then I realized I wasn’t – it – it hadn’t, like…all the way…” Harry trailed off, not meeting Louis’ eyes, and made a hand gesture.

Thankfully, Louis caught on, and squeezed Harry tight. “Hazza, that doesn’t _mean_ anything,” he protested defensively. “You were wanking, yeah?” Harry blushed, but he nodded, wanting to be honest. “Like full on, touching yourself? Like…stroking, right?” Harry nodded again, feeling the heat on his face. “Then that’s just physical – you know how you can get hard even when you’re sleeping, and you’re not dreaming about, like, anything hot?” Harry nodded yet again, feeling the familiar irritation he usually felt at that. “That’s ‘cause it’s physical, too. It’s not just – you don’t _just_ get hard when you’re turned on; it’s also physical, like it’s a natural instinct to get hard if you’re being touched there. That doesn’t mean you – you’re upset ‘cause you think you were getting off to it, yeah?”

Harry nodded again, feeling a stinging prick at his eyes.

“But that’s what I’m saying, babe, it’s not. You weren’t – you weren’t necessarily getting off to it. It’s just physical, ‘cause you were touching yourself. It’s not like that, so…stop feeling ashamed.”

Harry wiped at his eyes, feeling relieved – because Louis would _know_ these things, Louis would. And Louis wouldn’t ever lie to him, either. Harry nodded and whispered, “Thank you.”

Louis didn’t answer, just wrapped Harry up and kissed his lips again and held him tight, until he drifted off to an exhausted sleep.

\---

When Harry woke up, he was alone in his bed. He patted around sleepily for Louis, and the sheets were still vaguely warm, but Louis wasn’t there.

Harry sat up and wandered out of his room, rubbing at his eyes as he dragged his feet.

Gentle sounds of Louis’ voice drifted up over the balcony, and Harry walked towards it and leaned over, and swallowed. Louis was down in his kitchen, at his table, drinking a cup of tea with his mum and talking.

“…my business to tell, Anne. I’m sorry.”

Harry watched as Anne nodded, though she sighed. “I just – I’ve never seen him like that, is all. I was so worried. I’m so glad you could come. And you got here so quickly.”

“Well,” Louis said, looking and sounding a little sheepish, “I may have sped a little bit. But I’m glad I came, too.”

Anne nodded, and Harry smiled fondly. That is, until Anne asked, “Does he hate me, Louis?”

Harry’s heart clenched. He hadn’t ever meant to make his mother think that; he just needed space to think - and what if Louis had the impression –

“Anne, of _course_ not. Harry doesn’t hate you. It’s – I can’t speak for him with _any_ kind of certainty, because we haven’t talked much about it and what we have isn’t mine to tell, but – I think he just needs to be able to _think_. Harry worships the ground you walk on; I don’t even think you realize how much he loves you and worships you. I think he worries about you the way you worry about him.”

Anne nodded and coughed, and – that was her “I’m crying but I don’t want you to know” cough – she reached over and wrapped her hand over Louis’. “Thank you, Louis.”

Harry watched as Louis nodded and put his other hand on hers and squeezed, and then stood up. “I should get back up there,” he said, still quiet. “He shouldn’t have to wake up alone.”

Harry scrambled back to his bed as quietly as possible, and the mattress underneath him had just stopped shaking when Louis crawled in bed next to him, crowding him as he pulled Harry close against him.

“I know you were listening,” Louis said, and through his closed eyes, Harry heard the smirk in his voice.

Harry’s eyes opened and he smiled impishly.

“Did I answer everything right?” Louis asked. “I didn’t want to –”

Harry pressed a kiss to Louis’ lips and then pressed his face into Louis’ neck. “You’re _perfect_ ,” he said quietly, smiling.

“You’re gonna have to talk to her soon, you know,” Louis said, and the vibrations in his throat tickled Harry’s nose.

“I know. I will.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mmmk, so Niall tells Harry he thinks Zayn is going to break up with him soon because they haven't had sex yet; Niall and Harry have a conversation about dirty talking, and Harry wants to learn how to talk dirty to motivate Louis to go a bit further without having to ask him, because he wants to be "normal". Niall gives Harry a porn site and a porn star to look up to help him out with his dirty talk, and Harry goes to it, picks a video, has a wank to it, and then discovers he's watching porn with the daddy!kink. It's a bit of a trigger, and he gets sick and upset and ashamed of himself because he realized he hadn't gone instantly flaccid when he realized what he was watching. Louis comes over and cleans him up and takes care of him, and Harry tells him what happened. Louis calms him down and tells him it's alright, that he wasn't getting off to it, but that it's normal to still be hard if you haven't come, even if something like that happens. Harry's comforted, they kiss a bit, and Harry falls asleep. When he wakes up, Louis and Anne are downstairs talking; Louis convinces Anne to let Harry have some time to think about what's going on, and assures her that Harry still loves her. He then goes back upstairs and convinces Harry to talk to her soon.  
> .xx


	12. Part 11 [2/2].

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I also need to thank http://sheila-lee.hubpages.com/hub/Why-Is-Romantic-Kissing-So-Important because I literally copy-pasted a section of this and italicized it. So, thanks! .xx

_“The biggest reason why people kiss is to show the other person just how much they care about them. It is a physical symbol of their affection and/or love for them. It is a way, without words, to show the other person in a deep connection their love for them._

_If you deeply care or even love someone, share those feelings with them. Let it express your love for the other person. Don’t hold back. Don’t think about it. Just do it. Yes, it may be a bit awkward at first since the two of you don’t know each others kissing styles (and there are many) but once applied a few times, the moments can be absolutely magical.”_

 

Harry sighed as he read what was on his screen. Niall’s words played back over and over in his head, too, and somewhere between Louis leaving after Harry’s freak-out and school the next morning, Harry had convinced himself he was about to lose Louis’ interest, despite what Louis had said.

Louis needed to stay interested, and Harry wanted to kiss more, maybe with tongue, or something, anyway. Harry could – Louis would like it, if Harry did it right.

With Harry’s thoughts going haywire, Harry went back to Google and typed in _best french kissing techniques_.

\---

Harry walked into the kitchen, where his mum was washing dishes and humming quietly to herself.

“Hey – Mum? Can I…can I talk to you real quick?”

Anne had turned when she heard Harry come in, and she stared at Harry with no small amount of surprise. Harry knew why – it had been nearly three weeks since he’d walked in to find his mum with another man, and he hadn’t really spoken to her since – but it still made him a little sad. He stepped forward and gently took her hand, watching her to make sure she’d be okay with it. When he felt her fingers curl around his hand, he smiled tentatively at her, and it was returned.

Harry pulled her away from the sink, but stopped at the freezer to grab a box of ice cream with his free hand. He moved over to the counter and set it down, and opened the drawer to get two spoons before grabbing the ice cream again and pulling his mum to the living room.

They sat on the couch, on opposite ends, and faced each other, ice cream between them.

Anne didn’t seem to want to speak, and Harry figured it was probably best if he spoke first, anyway, before his mum wore him down with guilt on accident. He took a deep breath and began with, “I should – probably apologize, first – no,” Harry said as Anne went to speak, “no, just…just _let me_ , yeah?” Anne nodded and Harry took a spoonful of ice cream to shove in his mouth and allow himself time to think – he knew he’d speak to his mum today, but he hadn’t planned anything out.

“I – don’t ever want to walk in on that again,” Harry said, and winced at the tone. He grabbed his mum’s hand, reaching across the couch. “Not that – it’s just, I – either you’re not the lady I thought you were, or you’ve been keeping the fact you’re _dating_ a secret from me. And I don’t like either of those options, Mum.”

Anne nodded, eyes downcast, and said, “We’ve been seeing each other for – for a few months.”

Harry nodded; he’d expected as much. “I thought so. But when did we start keeping secrets?” he asked sadly. Anne didn’t answer, still looking down at her lap. “ _We_ are all we’ve got – or, well… _were_ all we had, I guess, now you’ve got your…guy, and I’ve got Lou. But, I just – you’re the only person who knows everything about me, really, and I thought we’d been through enough to not keep things from each other.

“I guess my first reaction wasn’t exactly pleasant, but I wouldn’t have reacted that way if you’d have _told_ me. I just…there was that – that irrational _fear_ – not of _him_ , really, but of the – the… _position_ you were in,” he said, blushing. “It – I didn’t like it. I don’t…I don’t want to see that again, okay?” Anne nodded, finally looking up at her son, and Harry saw the regret in her eyes. “But mostly, it was just…there was someone on my _mum_. You don’t – you’re my _mum_. _Nobody’s_ supposed to be treating you like a…like a – a _sexual object_. Since when do you get off on being _ravaged_?” Anne blushed horrifically and grabbed ice cream as an excuse not to look at him. “And then, I was – I talked to Lou about it, and he – asked me why…why it seemed like I hated that guy.” Anne looked up at him, eyes full of curiosity, and Harry flicked at the sting in the corner of his eye.

“I - I’m supposed to be _enough_ , Mum. That’s – we moved _houses_ , you moved _jobs_ , you lost your _husband_ , _loads_ of friends, we had people coming in and out of the house _all the time_ , checking up on me. I remember all of that. But I thought – it seemed like we were a _team_ , me and you, and you were always enough for me, and I thought – I thought it was the same, like, for you. I thought I was enough, and then suddenly, I wasn’t. And I found out the guy who apparently _is_ enough for you doesn’t have a problem crawling on top of you in the middle of the day instead of in a nice bed after a wonderful date, like a proper gentleman. The guy who _is_ enough treats you like a cheap whore.”

Harry could see the shock in Anne’s face; honestly, he was shocked he’d said that last bit, too. That wasn’t supposed to come out.

Trying to soothe her, he softened his tone and said, “I _want_ you to be _happy_ , Mum. But secret relationships and lowering your standards like that…I can’t approve of that, alright? I can’t…I can’t be okay with it.”

Anne nodded, blushing. Harry leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her hair and hugged her. “I’d really like to start speaking to you again,” he said as he hugged her.

“I’d like that, too, Harry,” Anne said, and her arms came around Harry.

When Harry let go, Anne asked, “Isn’t Louis’ party tonight?”

Harry nodded with a little smile pulling at his lips. “Yeah, he’s outside, waiting for me, actually. I just wanted to talk to you before I left.” He squeezed her hand before he reached for the lid, but Anne stopped him.

“Leave it,” she said. “Go give Louis a kiss for me.”

Harry turned and walked out, smirking to himself. _Sure thing_ , he thought to himself as he climbed in Louis’ car.

\---

Everything was set up. The house was immaculately cleaned, it was decorated, Zayn had already been over much earlier to set up the sound system and help him out with music selection. The food was being prepared, but there wasn’t anything Harry or Louis could do for that, because Jay refused to give up the rule of her kitchen to Harry, and Louis…well, Louis should never ever be in a kitchen, anyways.

Harry sat on Louis’ bed, legs folded under him and facing Louis, who was in an identical position, and laced his fingers through Louis’.

“I – I want to try something,” Harry stammered nervously, “and I don’t want you to stop me.”

Louis smiled softly and nodded, confusion showing on his face.

Harry nervously closed his eyes and leaned forward, pressing his lips to Louis’. He missed, but just barely – his lips slightly off-center and catching the corner of Louis’ mouth.

Louis shifted softly, and Harry felt him gasp when he felt Harry’s hesitant tongue press against his lip. Harry didn’t push it, and Louis whined in the back of his throat to encourage it again.

Blushing, Harry’s hands gripped Louis’ strong thighs as he leaned forward more and slipped his tongue gently against Louis’ lip again, unsure of how to really _do_ it, though he’d read up on it. Louis nodded ever-so-slightly, and slid his tongue over Harry’s.

Harry gasped and pulled back, breathing heavily and staring at Louis. Louis was flushed and watched Harry carefully.

“Touch?” Louis asked. Harry didn’t answer, just stared at him, and Louis’ face shifted into worry. “Harry?”

Harry stared at Louis blankly for a second before their lips were touching again, smashed together, and Harry was sucking on Louis’ tongue.

“ _Harry_ ,” Louis gasped, feeling Harry’s hands moving up his chest and around his shoulders. Harry whined back and tugged at Louis, falling back against Louis’ mattress, and pulling Louis down on top of him.

Louis was kissing Harry back, trying to slow it down, but Harry was whining and getting dizzy with how overwhelming it was. He dug his fingers into Louis’ back as their tongues slid against each other, the contact shooting through Harry’s entire body. He was on _fire_.

Suddenly, Louis pulled back. “Touch, touch, touch, touch, touch,” he gasped out, chest heaving as he moved away, sitting up and scooting himself back.

Harry didn’t know how to feel about that, but he knew he couldn’t breathe. As he registered the fire being extinguished, and the lack of _Louis_ on his body, he felt a sting in his eyes and he blushed, suddenly unable to look at Louis. He stared at the ceiling, feeling silly and young and stupid as he listened to Louis not wanting him, over there on the other side of the bed.

“Harry?” Louis asked, but Harry didn’t answer. “…Harry?”

“Yeah?” Harry tried to answer, but his voice broke as the cold of rejection washed over him, and – he’d never felt so rotten and embarrassed in his whole life.

“Oh, _Harry_ ,” Louis said quietly.

Suddenly, Louis’ hands were gripping Harry’s knees and Harry was sliding closer to Louis, legs still spread open. Louis pulled Harry until his arse was pressed against Louis’ groin, Harry’s legs over Louis’ and around his hips. Louis leaned forward and pulled Harry up, hugging him close.

Harry was still embarrassed because of Louis, but Louis was still the only person who could make everything better, so he wrapped his arms and legs around Louis and clung to him for dear life.

“Hazza, I want you so bad, it’s criminal,” Louis said softly into Harry’s shoulder. “If you were ready, I’d take you in a heartbeat. But you aren’t, babe, and I’m only human; you can’t just _spring_ things like that on me, okay?”

Harry’s face still burned with embarrassment, but he nodded. Louis didn’t believe it, though, and he grabbed Harry’s chin between his thumb and forefinger. “ _Hey_ ,” he demanded, grabbing every bit of Harry’s attention. “I want you – badly. You really have no idea how bad I want you. But I – I’m not used to kissing like that, not without the intention of going somewhere. It’s new for me, too, okay? I have to…I have to get used to it, too.”

Harry nodded, turning his eyes downcast again. “Sorry,” he said quietly and buried his face in Louis’ chest. His cheeks still flamed, and he really just needed some reassurance.

Thankfully, Louis seemed to _get it_ , and twisted fingers through Harry’s hair, pulling him back gently. Harry looked into Louis’ eyes until Louis licked his lips – then, Harry watched his lips.

Louis glided forward and his lips trapped Harry’s bottom one. Harry’s head was fuzzy by the time Louis’ tongue slid across it, and Harry let his own tongue lick Louis’ top lip. Louis pulled away for a fraction of a second, to tilt his head a bit more, and suddenly their mouths were slotted against each other and sucking a little and pulling with lips and tongues. The rub of Louis’ tongue against his own sent Harry’s head spinning, and he clenched hard at Louis’ shoulders, and then his hands went into Louis’ hair and gripped, like he’d seen before. Louis moaned loudly, straight into Harry’s mouth, but then he shook his head and grabbed Harry’s hands from his hair and pulled back.

“Not – you can’t do my hair, okay?” he panted, and Harry nodded frantically, sliding his fingers between Louis’ and leaning back in, pulling himself closer with his legs around Louis’ waist. Louis’ legs came back around him and Harry felt Louis’ feet against his bum.

Harry realized he was getting a little hard and rocking against Louis when Louis squeezed Harry’s hands and dug them into the mattress beneath them. Louis let go after the squeeze and suddenly his face was covered from both sides by Louis’ slightly sweaty hands. The heat of his palms on Harry’s already heated cheeks was like actual fire, and Harry reveled in it, just as much as he reveled in Louis breaking away far enough to whisper “slow it down” straight into his mouth.

Harry nodded again, but then he felt Louis’ lips close over his tongue and suck at it a little, and he moaned, and then it turned into a whine. Louis licked over his tongue and then pulled Harry so he could scrape his teeth over Harry’s bottom lip gently, and then retracted his own tongue so they could just kiss with their lips.

As the kiss calmed down, so did Harry, and so did Louis. When it was over with, Harry was still breathing a little heavily, and his hands were still twisted in the duvet, but then he looked at Louis and it was like he was _shining_ , he was so beautiful. Louis’ face was flushed, his hair just a little more tousled than usual, and his lips were bright pink, and his eyes were dark. Louis leaned in one more time and pressed his lips chaste against Harry’s, and Harry smiled.

 ---

“This is Harry,” Louis practically yelled, tugging on Harry’s hand. Harry smiled at Louis’ friend and offered his other hand to shake.

“Hey, Harry, I’m Greg,” he said, taking Harry’s hand for a shake.

“Oh, my best mate’s older brother’s called Greg,” Harry called back, an easy smile gracing his face.

“Greg Horan, he means,” Louis said. “Niall Horan’s his best mate.”

This Greg squinted at Harry and then at Louis, and he said, “Bit young to be your best mate, inn’e?”

Harry’s eyebrows creased, confused and then a little offended, and he said a tad defensively, “He’s four months older than me.”

Greg’s eyes widened and he said, “You’re _sixteen_?!”

Harry blushed. “Fifteen,” he corrected, loud enough for Greg to hear, mostly out of politeness. He looked away and down to the floor. This was the third time someone was surprised at how young he was.

Louis smiled, though, and said, “His birthday’s in a month and a half, and we’re gonna have a blast, aren’t we, Hazza?” He pulled Harry close and squeezed him a few times until Harry was cajoled into giving a smile.

Harry looked over at his boyfriend fondly and nodded, and then they both looked over at Greg, who was smiling at this point. “Nice to see you’ve got Louis to settle down and stop boning all the young, fit ones,” he said, and his tone made it clear he was joking, so Harry laughed.

Louis huffed dramatically and said, “’Scuse me, I _never_ date people younger than me! Harry’s a special exception.”

Harry beamed, feeling wonderful, but he didn’t look over at Louis. Greg rolled his eyes and took a swig of whatever he was having – non-alcoholic, whatever it was – and said to Harry, “Happy for you, mate. Tommo’s needed someone to make him slow down a bit, or his liver’d give out by his nineteenth!”

Harry laughed his embarrassing laugh – the one that always snuck up on him and echoed in his head after – and clapped a hand over his mouth as his cheeks burned. A few people around him looked startled, but Louis laughed loudly right after that and kissed Harry’s cheek and nuzzled into him. Harry wrapped an arm around Louis’ shoulders, pulling him to keep him there for a bit, and Greg waved to Harry and disappeared into the crowd.

Harry looked around happily, just people-watching, and he saw Zayn and Niall standing side by side, not really touching but openly flirting and being silly together. Liam showed up with Danielle in tow, Danielle begging Liam to dance and Liam (because he can’t ever say no to anyone, ever) giving in and letting her sway with him, and he looked pretty happy. Stan was off near the kitchen, trying to chat up some girl who didn’t really look interested. Most of the football team was there, dancing and being generally loud and hitting on fit girls and giving Harry suggestive winks after clapping Louis on the back and saying things like ‘birthday sex’ to make Harry blush.

Louis even got Harry to dance, but it was soon obvious they were horrible dancers, so they started doing dances that should never ever be done. Louis didn’t care, though, and Harry decided not to, either. The party was actually kind of fun, though a bit draining and not something Harry would probably ever make a habit of.

When the party was over, Harry, Louis, Liam, and Danielle started the clean-up. Louis protested making Danielle clean, but she insisted until it hit twenty minutes until her curfew. She gave Harry a hug, and Louis a hug and kiss on the cheek and she wished him a happy birthday one more time. Liam gave them both pats on the shoulder and wished Louis a happy birthday while watching Harry. “Need a ride home?” he asked, and Harry gulped, having forgotten to tell Liam he was spending the night at Louis’.

“Erm, no thanks. I’m – spending the night?”

Liam’s eyes widened, but only briefly, and he nodded and then turned a warning glare in Louis’ direction. Harry blushed and made eye contact with Danielle, who mouthed _worry-wart_ and smiled, but then they both left, leaving Harry and Louis to finish up. Thankfully, it didn’t take long.

\---

A few days later, on Louis’ _actual_ birthday – which was Christmas Eve – Harry and Louis sat on the floating bed in the Jungle, facing each other with their legs folded under them and knees touching. Harry’s hands shook nervously as he placed a small box wrapped perfectly in blue paper on Louis’ knee.

“Just – before you open it – erm, I didn’t know what to get you? Me and Liam and Niall always just have a lads’ night out or in, like pizza, a film, jam session, that kind of thing, and whoever’s birthday it is, the other two split everything. So I didn’t know what to get, so I – just got you it, and like – the gift receipt thing is in there, if you don’t like it. You can’t – you can’t, like…get the money for it, but they’ll let you get anything else you want of “equal or lesser value”, they said.” Harry picked at the skin around his fingernails as he watched Louis’ fingers trace the perfect lines of the folds of the wrapping paper on the little box.

Louis smiled at Harry, looking almost shy, and he nodded, watching for Harry to be ready for him to open it. When Harry finally nodded, Louis slipped a finger under one of the folds and slid it up until it broke the tape. He carefully unwrapped the box, smiling radiantly up at Harry. Harry smiled back nervously, squirming on the bed, and Louis took off the lid and stared. Inside the box was a thin, braided leather necklace with a penny on a ring at the bottom, a few circular slices of jewel on each side of it. On the penny, the word ‘touch’ was engraved.

When Louis didn’t move – just stared at it with a shocked expression on his face – Harry started getting nervous again. “It’s – you can tell me if you hate it, it was just kind of – I mean, it’s stupid. I just – the penny’s for luck, like – with anything, really, like. Football, or your senior year, or – or for whatever with your Dad –” Louis glanced up, and Harry stopped speaking for him, but when Louis didn’t say anything, Harry started looking around the room, and Louis glanced back down. “I just – there’s that, and the – I got the leather, ‘cause I know your skin is like, really sensitive? And I didn’t want to get you something that would, like, itch – and also ‘cause I know you – you don’t really do necklaces ‘cause you think they – they look girly. And so I thought – stupid, but I thought that if it was like, _leather_ , that it’d be more – more _manly_ , or something. So, like, whatever, and ‘touch’, like that’s just ‘cause you’re – so crazy and you never slow down, and you’re always _goinggoingoing_ and that you need help to remember to slow down sometimes, that’s part of it, but also – erm, also, I thought it would, like. Remind you of – of me? Or, like, _us_? And I thought maybe you’d – but you can totally – the receipt’s right there, if you –”

Louis threw himself at Harry, knocking him over and hugging him tight. The bed swung a little wildly, and Louis’ knee was digging into the back of Harry’s thigh, but Harry hugged Louis back just as tight.

When Louis let go and sat back on his knees, Harry realized with a little bit of horror that Louis’ eyes looked dangerously shiny.

Louis laughed throatily, and kissed Harry thoroughly. He pressed his forehead to Harry’s afterward, and said quietly, “Nobody has _ever_ put so much thought into a present before, Harry. Thank you. So much.”

Harry stared long enough for the angle to give him a slight headache, and then he pulled away only to kiss Louis’ lips again. “I love you,” he said simply, feeling like that was enough. “You – you deserve everything. And I know I don’t really have, like – I don’t really _have_ everything, but you – I could give you everything I have? If you wanted it, I mean.”

Louis shook his head, though, and he pulled the necklace free of the box. His fingers unclasped it, and he turned around, facing away from Harry, and looked over his shoulder. “Put it on for me?”

Harry’s fingers trembled a little as he hooked it back, around Louis’ neck, and Louis turned around and snuggled into him, pushing until Harry was leaning back against a few pillows. “Thank you,” he said again. “It’s – it’s Christmas Eve, is all,” he said.

Harry nodded, understanding. “Well, me and you? We don’t have to celebrate Christmas Eve. It can just be your birthday, from now on. It’s December twenty-third, Lou’s birthday, Christmas, December twenty-sixth. For me and you, at least,” he added sincerely.

Louis smiled shyly and his fingers trailed up and down the prism on Harry’s Pink Floyd t-shirt. “You think we’ll have more Christmas Eves?”

“No,” Harry said seriously. “We’ll have more Louis birthdays.”

Louis smiled brilliantly and stretched his neck to reach Harry’s lips, trapping them between his own. Harry made an appreciative sound from the back of his throat, and he licked across Louis’ lip quickly before leaving it at that. Louis put his head on Harry’s chest and let the bed rock them as they snuggled.


	13. Part 12.

Winter holiday passed by slowly for Louis; on Christmas day, Mark had shown up and spent the day with the girls.

Stan and his family went on a cruise to Jamaica, Zayn’s family was _very_ strict about him going out around the holidays, as it was a time for _family_. Niall and his family had gone to Ireland to visit Niall’s dad’s parents, Liam stayed mostly with Danielle and his own family, and Harry – well, Harry got a job in a bakery.

It wasn’t really all that much – just four days a week during the break, and it would be three days a week from six ‘til closing, which was nine, and Saturdays from noon to five, once school started back up. Louis was happy for Harry, because he really liked his job – he worked mostly with older ladies who were sweet and doted on him, he was cooking, he was making money and being responsible, and he still had time for Louis.

On the downside, Louis’ dad _owned_ that bakery.

It didn’t really make that much difference – honestly, Mark owned over half the town, basically – but it made Louis exceedingly uneasy, knowing Harry would probably meet Mark eventually. Not that Mark was any _real_ danger, but…still.

_Hey, I’m working late tonight – Bessy wants me to teach her those triple-chocolate brownie bites – okay? I can get mum to pick me up if it’s a problem? –H_

Louis sighed as he read his phone. He texted back quickly, though, not wanting Harry to worry. _It’s no problem! Just let me know when you’re ready and I’ll be there soon as I can:)_

Harry texted back about fifteen minutes later: _If you get here soon enough, you might get to lick the icing off my spatula!!_

Louis groaned. Harry did things like this all the time, and never even knew it. He couldn’t know. He wouldn’t.

Louis glanced to his door, making sure it was locked, and lay flat on his bed. He shucked his trousers and pants and took his cock in his hand, imagining himself on his knees for Harry, making Harry come apart with his mouth. He would ask Harry to fuck his mouth, and wondered how Harry would do it. Wondered if Harry would grip Louis’ hair and pull him onto his cock and thrust, or if he’d push Louis’ back against a wall and thrust into it, giving Louis no way of escape. Louis stroked his cock, amazed at how fast he’d gotten completely hard, and tried to imagine the sounds Harry would make when Louis tried to deep throat him.

Louis started flicking his wrist and tightening his grip on his cock, which leaked precome when he looked down at it. “God, Harry,” Louis whined, hips jerking up into his palm. “Fuck it, fuck my face,” he whispered breathlessly. He imagined what Harry’s come would taste like, if Harry would want to taste himself on Louis’ tongue. Imagined Harry going to his knees for Louis – how he’d be bright red and breathing heavily, eyes bright and wide and frantic and desperate to try it. Louis’ hips were bucking wildly into his tight grip by now, and when he imagined gripping Harry’s hair tight, Louis moaned out, “ _Harry_ ,” and came over his hand, shaking quietly and flicking drops of come up onto his t-shirt with his hand still stroking himself through it.

Louis lay on the bed, flushed and panting and a little spent, for a few minutes before reaching over and grabbing tissues. He cleaned himself up and then picked up his phone and texted Harry back. _Use Fudge icing and I’ll love you into my next life._

\---

_Knock, knock._

Louis opened his door and found the twins there, Phoebe holding her stuffed cardinal, Pepper, and Daisy with her bird – a blue jay – called Peeper. Louis sank to his knees and opened his arms, and the twins walked straight into it. Louis squeezed them tight and gave them both kisses. “Night, girlies,” he said fondly.

“Night, Lou,” they chimed together before sneaking in one last hug, and then they went off to bed. Louis stood, wincing as one of his knees cracked, and went back into his room, shutting his door and dropping at his computer desk.

Minutes later, there was another knock at his door. Louis sighed and started to haul himself up, but his mum opened the door and peeked in.

“Can I come in?” She asked, smiling because she already knew the answer. Louis didn’t bother answering her, but he scooted his chair closer to his bed as Jay walked in and sat on it.

“What’s up?” Louis asked with a smile.

“I was just coming in to say hi. You seem a bit lonely this break, with Stan and Zayn away, and Harry’s lads gone, and Harry working all the time.”

Louis nodded, frowning. “Yeah, it’s a bit sad,” he said. “But Harry really loves it at his job – the ladies who work there are really nice to him – so I’m happy for him. I’m just a bit worried about Mark.”

Jay frowned. “I wouldn’t worry about Mark,” she said seriously. “He’s not going to come ‘round the bakery often – it doesn’t make him enough money to warrant frequent visits. And even if he does meet Harry, nothing will happen. He doesn’t know who Harry is.”

Louis nodded. “No, I know. I just – I’m worried, a little, about it, is all. I don’t want Mark anywhere near Harry.”

Jay’s eyebrows furrowed. “Lou, what are you so afraid of?”

Louis sat back to think over his next words, knowing he couldn’t tell the whole truth, before he said, “Mark messes everything up. He messed up us – and you know I’d never trade the girls for anything; you know I love my sisters with all I’ve got. But you haven’t been the same since you married Mark.”

Jay smiled and rolled her eyes. “I don’t think I’ve changed all that much; you were only five when you met him. You probably just don’t remember right.”

But Louis shook his head, knowing the truth. “No,” he said. “No, I remember when you let me meet Mark. I didn’t like him. I threw my toy car at him and stepped on his foot.”

Jay snorted, but she nodded. “That’s true,” she admitted with a grin.

Louis sighed. “I just – I remember that feeling, and then it’ll hit me that I never lost that feeling. I still feel it. And by the time I could describe it, it was too late, and I had sisters.” He shook his head, knowing he was getting off-topic. “I just…Harry tends to idolize people who are nice to him. It’s not a _bad_ thing, really, but I don’t want Mark reeling him in – even _I_ have to admit, he’s really charming when he wants to be – and then just…breaking him. The way he broke us.”

Jay broke eye contact and looked at her hands. “I’m sorry, for what it’s worth,” she said, raising her eyebrows but not her eyes. “I never meant for him to break you. I’m sorry you got stuck with a shit dad.”

Louis grimaced. “I shouldn’t complain about Mark, not really, should I? He gave us this house, our lifestyle, our girls, good schools, all the money or anything I could ever want, the financial option of any college I want, and the cost is just that he’s a bit of a dick. Meanwhile, Harry’s dad’s a rapist and a child molester, rotting in jail for twenty years because he couldn’t keep his hands off his –” Louis took a deep breath, absentmindedly touching the braid around his neck. He was still getting used to it – he’d never ever worn a necklace before – but whenever he thought about it, a thrill went through him as he remembered the look on Harry’s face when he’d realized Louis liked it.

“Does it bother you?” Jay asked quietly.

“Does what bother me?”

“That he…” Jay looked uncomfortable. “That his dad…did that to him. Does it bother you?”

Louis wondered if his mum was losing her mind. “Of course it does,” he breathed. “Harry is…the best person I ever met. He’s smart, and kind, and funny, and generous, and thoughtful, and perceptive, and honest, and shy, and snuggly, and _innocent_. And he’s probably always been that way. It haunts me to know that if Anne hadn’t…been so, like, proactive, or whatever, about getting Harry into therapy…if she hadn’t, he could’ve been ruined, different… and that bothers me a lot.”

Jay reached out and rubbed Louis’ calf, next to her. “I meant – I knew that bit, obviously,” she said with a little smile. “I know it kills you that your Harry’s gone through something like that. I meant…does it bother you that…either way I say this, it’s going to sound horrible, so don’t get upset, alright?” She warned, looking a little apprehensive. Louis nodded; it wasn’t like his mum could ever _really_ upset him. “Does it bother you that…someone was there first?”

Louis frowned; he’d never thought about it like that. “I don’t…I don’t think so,” he finally said. He shrugged. “From what Harry remembers…not much happened,” he said, not wanting to elaborate. Jay knew the gist of it; she didn’t need details. “And even if we’re wrong, and something did happen, it wouldn’t change anything,” he added. “Harry loves me, and I love him; that’s what makes everything different.”

Jay smiled widely and nodded, squeezing Louis’ leg. “I’m so proud of you,” she said.

Louis moved from his chair to the bed and hugged his mum, rocking her side to side like they did when he was little.

“Lou, I need to tell you someth –”

Louis’ mum was cut off by Louis’ ringtone for Harry ( _God Damn, You’re Beautiful_ by Chester See). Louis looked apologetically to his mum before he answered it, “Hiya!”

_“Hey, I’m ready…do you mind?”_

Louis tutted. “I’ll be there soon, love. Sit tight.”

_“Okay, thanks. See you in a bit.”_

Louis squeaked a kissy noise over the phone and hung up before he turned to his mum. “Sorry, Mum,” he said with a not-really-grimace. “Gotta go get Harry. Can it wait?”

Jay smiled, and it was a bit tight, but Louis really didn’t like making Harry wait – knew Harry tended to worry when Louis was late – so he smiled back before kissing her forehead and standing up. He grabbed his keys, wallet, and phone, and slipped some TOMS on and headed to pick up his boyfriend.

 ---

“Sorry, love, we’re closed for the night.”

“No, he’s here for me, Bess,” Harry told the old woman shyly when Louis walked in. Louis let eyes roam over Harry – Anne had taken him to work, so Louis hadn’t seen him yet that day – and smiled. _Delicious._

“ _Oooh_ , is this the boyfriend, then?” Bessy asked Harry, staring at Louis. “Our boy never shuts up talking about his boyfriend,” she said, grinning fondly over at Harry, who was now blushing.

“Yeah?” Louis asked with a grin. “I hear about him, too. Sounds like an alright guy, from what Harry tells me.”

Bessy laughed. “He sounds like Jesus Christ himself, is what he sounds like!”

Louis blushed and leaned forward to shake her hand. “I’m Louis,” he introduced himself. He saw Harry’s smile tightened when he didn’t confirm that he was Harry’s boyfriend, but Harry didn’t say anything as Louis shook her hand.

“Come on back, then,” Bessy said. “If you’re here to pick up Harry, then you get to taste his cookies.” She turned and walked back through to the kitchen, and Louis swooped in to kiss Harry’s lips quickly, before grinning at him and following the old woman.

“I was promised icing, as well,” Louis said loudly, smiling when Harry giggled behind him.

 ---

New Year’s Eve came around and Louis’d _almost_ convinced Harry to come to a party. His original plan had been the one his mum was throwing – nothing harder than champagne was being served, so Harry wouldn’t feel embarrassed about his reluctance to drink; the people there were either mums and dads or their children, rather than rowdy teenagers looking to get drunk and break things; it’d be a great way for Harry to spend even more time with his mum and sisters, which Louis always wanted – but that plan fell through.

Harry had wanted to bring Anne to the party, so that their mums could socialize, become real friends, rather than just their friendly nurse/patient relationship – Harry insisted his mum needed more friends to socialize with (and keep her away from her new _boyfriend_ , (not that Harry told Louis that; Louis just knew)), and that it’d be great for them to know each other and get on well and things, so it was with a desperate hope of things going right that Louis excused himself to the kitchen when Harry asked Anne if she had any plans for New Year’s Eve. (Louis watched from around the corner of the fridge.)

Anne looked down at her socked feet on the carpet, something akin to nervousness on her face as she said like a confession, “I – well, I was going to…go to Robin’s, for the night…He’s throwing a party? I was actually going to – to go, and invite you to…come with me?” She looked up at Harry and saw the twisted expression on her son’s face. “Unless you wanted me to stay home, with you,” she quickly offered, looking an odd mix of disappointed and hopeful and desperate.

Harry crossed his arms and bit his lip, glancing over at Louis before saying petulantly (Louis would _not_ think of his boyfriend as childish, he wouldn’t do it), “Well, what if I _wanted_ to stay home and ring in the year with you?”

Anne’s hands moved to the hem of her sweater and she plucked at it nervously, and Louis thought (not for the first time) that Harry probably developed every single one of his habits from his mother. “I – well, I’d stay with you, of course,” she said slowly. “You’re my son, and I love you, and I need you to know that.”

Harry looked over to Louis, who knew exactly what Harry was thinking: _If I make her stay home, she won’t be with Robin._ Louis shook his head slowly, knowing Harry would listen. Anne was a good woman, and she deserved a night with her boyfriend. Louis loved Harry, but Harry wasn’t being the best son at the moment, and he knew it.

Harry sighed, dropping his head, and nodded. “You should go with Robin,” he told his mum reluctantly. “I’ll be out with Louis.”

Anne had that weird mix of disappointment and hopeful and desperate again when she asked, “Are you sure? I don’t mind…or we could – Louis and Robin –”

But Harry shook his head quickly. “No, I – no, I’ll just stay with Louis. Do you – can I stay the night as his, or can he stay here?”

Anne nodded, swallowing tightly. “Yeah, I – I was, erm…” she rubbed the back of her neck, and from what Louis could see of her, she was blushing. “I was actually…planning on staying there? At Robin’s?” Harry was staring at the carpet, but quickly turning a nasty shade of red, and Anne hurried to say, “Only I’m probably going to drink, and I don’t want to drive, you know, so –”

“No, I – I get it,” Harry said, trying desperately for a polite tone. He did quite well, Louis thought. He only just missed it, just a bit.

Anne nodded, sighing, and Harry said, as mildly as he could, “Me and Lou are gonna go out, alright?” He leaned forward and kissed his mum, and Louis recognized the tone – the desperation to get the hell away – so he left the kitchen, waving awkwardly to Anne, and together, he and Harry left Harry’s, headed for the jungle.

\---

Louis lay on his back on the floating bed, sighing as Harry licked into his mouth. One of Harry’s hands held Louis’ and the other was awkwardly petting one little spot on Louis’ chest, over his t-shirt. Louis grunted in the kiss as the touch started getting too sensitive, and brought his free hand over Harry’s hand, sliding it down and over to his side. Even as Harry sucked Louis’ tongue into his mouth, the hand on Louis’ side hovered, unsure, and Louis moved his own hand to Harry’s side, rubbing it up and down slowly, to show Harry.

Harry copied the movement after a bit, and Louis sighed contentedly and pressed his fingers closer to Harry’s ribcage, over his hoodie and shirt. Harry made a surprised sound against Louis’ lips and pulled away for a breath. “I really like it when you do that,” he whispered, eyes closed and breathing a little ragged.

“What?” Louis asked. “This?” He pressed his fingers a little closer, tighter to Harry, and Harry nodded, eyes opening to dilated pupils. Louis decided to keep that knowledge stored in his head for a little while.

Harry sighed and lay down, halfway on top of Louis, and Louis kept him close.

“You think I’m a terrible son,” Harry said quietly, not looking up at Louis.

Louis looked down at the curls obstructing his vision, and he brought the hand on Harry’s back up to scratch Harry’s scalp. “You think your mum’s a terrible mum,” he countered quietly.

Harry sighed and shook his head. “No, I don’t – I don’t think that,” he said. “Maybe it’d be easier if I _did_ think that, but. She’s not a bad mum at all.”

“I don’t think that, either, you know,” Louis said mildly as he scratched. “That you’re a terrible son, I mean. I don’t think you’re a terrible son at all. You’re just…confused. Conflicted.” Harry nodded, sighing. Wallowing. Louis sighed as well. “Harry, sweetheart, not liking the fact that your mum’s dating someone is alright. But not talking to her about it is just…stupid, really.” Harry winced at Louis’ truth, but Louis kept going, knowing he needed to hear it. “What’s gonna happen if Robin proposes to her, and you don’t know the man your mum wants to marry? Or what if she wants your blessing, and you won’t give it to her? Are you really gonna let your mum fall in love with someone, only to tell her no? You’re gonna let her get that invested?”

Harry sighed shakily, and pressed his face harder into Louis’ chest, and Louis ran his fingers through his curls, comforting. That was Louis’ job – caring, pushing, then comforting.

“Where’ve you been keeping all of that, then?” Harry asked, trying for a bit of humor and failing when his voice was shaky.

Louis stayed quiet for a minute, reflecting, and sighed before he answered, “It’s been directed inward for a long time.”

Harry looked up, then, eyes confused and sad, and Louis thumbed away the little tears that had collected without either of them knowing. “What do you mean?” he asked, thumb rubbing against Louis’ hip.

Louis looked up at the stars on the ceiling, listened to the sounds coming from the little radio in the corner, and said, “I never told my mum I didn’t like Mark. I – I just ignored it, like you’re doing, except a few more childish little fights here and there. And when he proposed, and she asked me, I was so tired of fighting that I said it was okay.” He looked up at Harry, needing to defend himself. “I love my sisters more than anything, and I remember when my mum used to be happy with Mark and it did make me happy. But other than that…I regret it so much – not telling her.”

Harry clucked sympathetically and kissed Louis’ chin, and Louis smiled at it before he remembered they were supposed to be talking about Harry. “I don’t want you to regret it, is all,” he said quietly, looking at the stars.

Harry sighed and rolled off of Louis, laying on his back. Louis instantly missed the pressure, the warmth, of Harry, but the younger boy quickly scooted close to him and grabbed his hand, lacing their fingers between each other. “So, I should talk to her,” Harry mumbled.

It wasn’t a question, not really, as Harry knew what Louis wanted him to do, but Louis answered instantly anyway. “Yes.”

Harry sighed again and nodded, and Louis squeezed their fingers.

\---

Louis sighed as he shut the door behind him, having dropped Harry off back at his to talk to Anne. He sighed again for good measure, suddenly feeling tired and worn out, and he walked to the living room and flopped down on the couch. Daisy and Phoebe looked up from where they were sat in front of the telly and greeted him happily, each earning a wave back from Louis.

Louis closed his eyes and let the twins’ ridiculous cartoon show lull him to sleep, filling him with dreams of a talking baby dragon, teaching lessons about acceptance.

The breath whooshed out of Louis and he woke up with a groan, trying to instinctively roll and curl up. A weight on top of his stomach wouldn’t let him, though, and he groaned when he registered two sets of bony knees digging into him. “Girls,” Louis gasped. “Get off.”

The twins giggled and slid off to the side, and when Louis finally opened his eyes, they were staring at him. “Mummy wants you,” Phoebe said.

“Yeah, Mummy wants you,” Daisy echoed.

Louis nodded. “Where is she?” he asked.

“In the study,” they chorused together, and Louis swallowed past the sudden tightening in his throat as he stood up.

He kissed the girls’ foreheads and walked to the second floor, curling around the banister as he made his way to his mum’s study. He knocked on the door and heard, “Come in,” and peeked around the door to find his mum looking at him expectantly.

Louis cleared his throat as he entered, closing the door behind him, and he sat down in the chair in front of the desk, fidgeting. They study didn’t usually bring good news.

“Everything alright, Mum?” Louis asked, trying to inject some cheer into his voice.

Jay shook her head. She took a deep breath and stretched her hands out, searching for Louis’. Louis gave her his hands and she held them tight, like a lifeline. She sighed and finally looked into Louis’ eyes as she said evenly, “Mark wants a divorce.”


	14. Part 13.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a tiny bit of a spoiler for the Disney movie _Brave_ if you haven't watched it, but only a little one. Sorry.

Harry sighed as he shut the front door, leaning against it with his eyes closed to prepare himself for the conversation about to unfold.

When he opened his eyes, a quick glance down the front hall told him the living room was empty. Harry walked down it, glancing sideways to see the kitchen was empty, too. “Mum?” he called out quietly.

No answer.

As Harry kept walking, he started picking up traces of music and a high, slightly off-key voice humming along.

Smiling fondly, Harry hauled himself up the stairs and walked down the hall to the toilet. Harry snickered to himself as he heard his mum butcher the note, and when he knocked on the door, the singing cut off immediately. “Mum, it’s me,” Harry called out through the door. “Can I come in?”

There was a second of shuffling, and then the bathroom door was opened, revealing his mum in a white slip and her hair in awkward-looking rollers, half her face done up with makeup.

Harry spared a second to think on the obvious intricacies of eyeliner as his mum stared at him.

He grinned and said, “Happy New Year’s Eve’s Eve?”

Anne smiled and opened the door further, and Harry sat down on the far side of the counter and watched his mum get ready. “Going out tonight?” he asked, trying for casual and failing when he couldn’t look away from a tiny hole he hadn’t noticed in the knee of his jeans.

Anne was quiet for a second before she placed a hand on Harry’s knee. “I don’t need to,” she offered gently. “I know we’ve – not really been spending much _time_ together…” she looked down at her hand on Harry’s knee and her thumb rubbed a swipe across the denim. “I just – it’s good for me to go out, just like it’s good for you. But if you wanted to – to spend the night in, we could?”

“No, Mum, I’m not upset about it,” Harry said quickly, not wanting to start off the conversation wrong. “I was just curious, honest.”

Anne smiled and a bit of a blush dusted her cheeks, and Harry thought to himself that the side without makeup looked much better under a natural blush. “Robin – wants to take me out for New Year’s. I know the party, and all, but – he wants…like a date.”

Harry let himself see how happy his mum was, blushing and happy, and he said sincerely, “You already look really lovely, Mum.” Anne blushed and ducked her head, and Harry said, “No, I mean it. You – I like it when you do your hair like that. With the curl-things. It always looks pretty.”

“Thanks, Harry,” Anne said, blushing deeper. “I – it’s nice, having…having someone to – dress up for, I suppose. A reason to want to look nice.” Harry nodded, and when Anne saw that Harry wasn’t turning purple, she added, “It’s – I like the…the way he reacts, when I look nice. It’s…nice.”

Harry couldn’t help but ask, “Was that – was that what I saw? On the couch?” Harry felt himself blushing and noticed his mum’s hand on his knee slid off, but he continued, “Was that – a reaction to you looking nice? The – the…ravaging?”

Anne took a deep breath and turned defensive, furrowing her brows a little. She looked a little angry, but mostly she looked embarrassed. “ _No_ , Harry, that was just – it’s been _months_ –”

“I just don’t see why you let him _treat_ you that way, Mum –” Harry began, but Anne cut him off.

“I _like_ it, Harry!”

Harry felt like he’d just taken a bowling ball to the head as he stared at his mum, bright red all over her face and neck and to where the white slip began – even her arms were red. Harry swallowed, wanting both to clarify and to never hear those words again. Eventually, he swallowed again and croaked out, “What?”

Anne looked humiliated almost to tears, but she squared her shoulders and said, “I – I like it. I – when he does that. The… “ravaging”, as you put it,” she blushed. “It’s not – he’s really a gentleman, and he never…he was always very…very, erm, _gentle_ , before, and I – I…asked him. For it. For…that.”

Harry was pretty sure he’d been lit on fire, his skin was so hot from blushing. He was nearly sweating, and his throat itched, and he felt like he needed water. He twisted his body to get to the sink and turned the faucet on, cupping water in his hands and bringing it to his mouth. He slurped noisily and then put his wet hands on his face, cooling his skin off.

When he looked back at his mum, there were tears welling up in her eyes and she looked up at the ceiling. Harry hesitantly reached out to his mum, grabbing her hand, and he pulled her forward. Her face was hot and bright, and her lip quivered a little, but Harry said nothing as he reached over and plucked a Q-Tip from the corner, by her makeup stuff.

“Don’t cry, Mum,” he murmured, embarrassed but knowing he couldn’t leave it like this. He dabbed carefully under her eye, trying not to make it worse, though he wasn’t sure what he was doing. “You’ll ruin your makeup,” he cooed, and then paused. “I might be doing that for you, though,” he admitted, and she backed away to avoid being poked in the eye as she let out a little laugh.

Anne sniffled and took a tissue to wipe her nose, washing and drying her hands afterward, and she composed herself and went to fixing her makeup, and Harry could tell she was still embarrassed.

“Mum,” he began, and then hesitated, not sure what to say. Finally, he said, “If there’s one thing Louis’ taught me, it’s to not be embarrassed about…like, about the things that I – want.” He felt himself blush and added, “Not always, like – _that_ – but I mean, I guess that works for…for that, too. It’s not – I like when Lou…like, squeezes me. Like, tight? I – he never did that ‘til I asked, just like…like you.” Harry blushed at telling his mum, and when she looked absolutely shocked at his admission, he thought back on his words and rushed to say, “Squeeze my _sides_ , my _sides_ , like – holds me tight, close to him, Mum!”

Anne let out a laugh mixed with an “Oh!” and covered her mouth, reduced to giggling. Harry laughed awkwardly along with her, and he scratched his neck before he screwed up the courage to tell her, “We’re not – we’re not _there_. We haven’t…haven’t done anything like that. We just – we snog a bit, is all,” Harry confessed, blushing. He looked down and picked at his cuticles and added, “He’s really patient for me.”

Anne reached out and touched Harry’s knee for his attention, and when she had it, she said, “Me and Robin aren’t…we’re not doing that, either. We – it’s complicated.” She took a deep breath, looking frustrated that she couldn’t find the words, and she looked up at Harry as she said slowly, “I don’t – I don’t think Des wanted me, after – a little after I had you. He just – I wasn’t in the best shape and I didn’t dress up and I was always tired from work. He…we didn’t…we didn’t.” She bit her lip and then added, “It’s just been – it’s been a long time, since someone…wanted me. Was attracted to me. And it’s really…” she took a breath and laughed at herself when her eyes started watering again. “It’s just really nice,” she said, her voice a little higher than normal as she wiped underneath her eyes with her fingers, “to have someone look at me and…and think, ‘ _Wow, I really want to kiss you_ ’. And I know Robin thinks that when he looks at me. And it’s not just – it’s not just that he wants to kiss me. It’s like…like he wants to – hug me, and hold my hand. Cook me dinner, kiss me silly, make me happy. He – he wants to _love_ me, and wants me to love him, too.”

Harry smiled tightly as his insecurities came back. He tried to forget them, knew they weren’t rational – he couldn’t do those things for his mum, because… _ew_ – but they were insistent. He drew his feet up on the counter, rested his chin on his knees and wrapped his arms around his shins. Anne watched him, and Harry started to feel suffocated under her gaze, so he dropped his head to press his forehead against his knees, tucking his chin down as he tried to breathe.

He heard Anne sigh and continue on her makeup. Harry sat and listened to the sounds – familiar, as he used to watch her get ready every day when he was younger – he tried to think calmly and rationally, the way Louis would. Finally, with a sigh, he looked up at his mum, who was applying her lipstick, and said, “You can – you should bring him over, sometime.”

Anne jerked her head towards Harry so hard she got lipstick all across her cheekbone. She muttered a few quiet, unladylike expletives as she grabbed a tissue and started scrubbing it away, looking at Harry’s reflection in the mirror every few seconds.

When the lipstick was gone, she turned to Harry and asked, “ _What_?”

Harry sighed and muttered, “You should bring him over sometime.” When he looked down at his mum, she was beaming, and he didn’t want her to get her hopes up too high, so he said, “I’m not making promises, Mum. I’m not gonna _try_ to like him, alright? If I like him, I like him; if I don’t, I can at least say I met the man, alright?” Anne sobered and nodded, trying to hide her bright grin, and Harry felt his pulse racing. “I mean it, Mum,” he said, sounding desperate to his own ears. “I meant – I meant what I said. Even if Robin’s this great bloke and you both fall in love and are mad about each other, I’ll never have another dad. You know I meant that, right?”

Anne nodded again, and she walked forward to hug Harry. “Just the fact that – _thank you_ , Harry,” she choked off, and Harry hugged her tight, burying his face in her neck.

\---

When Anne suggested she and Robin skip the date and let Harry meet him tonight, Harry had nearly choked, begging her not to rush it.

“It’s - I didn’t mean _now_ ,” he squeaked, wild-eyed. “I meant, like – I meant I’m not _completely opposed_ to the idea of meeting him sometime. I – I’d need Louis there, with me. Just – he keeps me from…being stupid. We could – we could, the four of us, do something? Maybe…like, in a little while? Like, later? As in, not now?”

Anne hadn’t even been that exasperated – too busy being thrilled. She rolled her eyes like Harry was being goofy, but she nodded and kissed his cheek when there was a knock on their front door: Robin, come to pick her up for their date.

“Have fun,” Harry mumbled halfheartedly, and he pulled out his phone to text Louis.

_I talked to her. Went very well; she’s out on a date now though. Be proud, and then come over and snog me._

No sooner had Harry sent the message, his phone vibrated with a new text from Louis.

_Are you done? Really need to talk._

Harry furrowed his brows and went to reply, but Louis had clearly already gotten his text, because Harry’s phone went off again. _Be there in ten._

Harry frowned, wondering what had Louis so terse all of a sudden, but decided to make some tea for him to help out. He also got out the thawed steak from the fridge and washed his hands to peel the meat from the bone before he started chopping it into strips for steak quesadillas, watching his fingers carefully as he cut with the butcher’s knife.

He just finished cutting the meat and was putting the strips into a pan to cook them when he heard the door open. “In the kitchen,” he called out, grabbing a wooden spoon to move the meat around, listening to it hiss quietly as the pan started to heat up.

Arms wrapped around Harry’s waist and Harry felt Louis’ forehead press against his back, between his shoulder blades. Harry leaned into the embrace but kept his hands busy with the food on the stove. “Made you some tea,” he offered, pointing to the cup off to the side. Louis didn’t move – didn’t even acknowledge him – and Harry frowned, stilling and listening to Louis breathe. “Are you alright?” he asked.

Louis shook his head after a minute, and Harry turned the heat on the burner down before he turned around, wiping his hands on the apron he’d tied around his waist before wrapping his arms around Louis’ neck. “What’s happened?” Harry asked, anxiety building up.

Louis hugged Harry tighter and whispered, “My – Mark’s divorcing Mum.”

Harry frowned, not understanding why it was a bad thing. “But…aren’t your mum and Mark already pretty much…? I mean, he doesn’t even _live_ with –”

Louis nodded and huffed, and said, “I – he only takes care of us so Mum would stay married. To – to keep up appearances,” he explained, eyes still closed, his cheek rested against Harry’s. “Divorces don’t look good; happy marriages with spoiled wives and doted-on children do. Mark agreed to keep giving us all loads of money and whatever we wanted – the best schools and cars and all of that – as long as Mum would stay legally married and not see anyone, because that scandal would ruin him, and as long as he could move out.”

Harry nodded, rubbing up and down Louis’ back, and thought before he slowly said, “…So now that he’s divorcing your mum, he won’t take care of you guys?”

Louis’ breathing hitched again and he coughed, and Harry pulled away to push the tea at him, insisting with his eyes that Louis drink it. Louis sighed and pulled himself up on the counter and picked up the cup.

“I’ll cook; you talk,” Harry said, pointing at Louis with the wooden spoon. Louis nodded, and Harry turned the heat up and let the steak simmer. He went to the pantry and got out tortillas, and the fridge to get out tomatoes and lettuce and an onion. “Want any of these on your quesadillas?” Harry asked Louis.

“Just lettuce, please,” Louis said in a small voice, and Harry nodded and put the onion back, keeping the tomato for himself and lettuce for Louis. As he started cutting the lettuce, he looked over at his boyfriend, concerned, and Louis caught his eye and set down his cup.

“I – Mum didn’t sign a pre-nup, so she’ll get half of what Mark has. It’s just…even with that, she’ll have to work full-time, or else Mark will get custody of the girls. I can watch the girls while I’m here, but…” Louis trailed off, swinging his sockless feet. “What’re they gonna do when I’m gone? Get a _sitter_?” Louis made a face at that, and Harry would’ve thought it was adorable, if it weren’t under the circumstances. “And we haven’t told the girls yet…I think Fliss and Lottie will be okay, ‘cause it’s not like Mark’s around all the time, anyway, but…the twins won’t understand, and they’ll just be hurt. They think Mum and Dad really love each other, and he’s just away a lot because of work.”

Harry stayed quiet, nodding while watching his fingers, watching the knife cut the lettuce up carefully. He moved over to the stove and flipped the steak strips and leaned up to kiss Louis’ cheek while he was nearby, and then moved back over to dice up the tomato.

Louis sighed heavily looked up to the ceiling. “It’s stupid,” he mumbled. “I don’t like Mark, I’ve never liked Mark, and I’ve never wanted him to be my dad…he’s homophobic and he’s a dick and he’s manipulative… But I’m still upset to see the marriage end.”

Harry set down the knife and looked at Louis, a little shocked to hear the admission. He moved to check the steak – they were done – and poured them out of the pan onto a plate, taking a tortilla and putting it on there for a few seconds before flipping it and taking it off, grabbing another one and doing the same thing.

He stayed quiet, thinking, and knowing Louis needed it, as well, and put the steak strips and cheese and lettuce for Louis and tomato for him on the tortillas, folding them up, and stuck Louis’ back on the pan, pressing it down briefly before flipping it and taking it off, putting it on a plate, and repeating the process with his own. He got out a pizza cutter and cut the quesadillas into four.

Making sure to turn the burner off, Harry took the plates to the table, and Louis followed wordlessly. They both sat down and started eating in silence, but Harry smiled inwardly when Louis’ hand found his. They both ate one-handed, and when they were done, Louis put his head down on the table. Harry took his plate and Louis’ and walked to the sink, grabbing the knife, cutting board, wooden spoon, and pan he used and put them all in the sink, putting away the unused lettuce and tomato and cheese before he moved back to wash the dishes.

Again, Harry felt arms wrapping around him, but this time, Louis’ hands were turning him around. Louis pressed his lips against Harry’s softly, and he murmured, “I love you.”

Harry smiled a little smile and hugged Louis tight, murmuring, “I love you, too,” back to him, laying his head against Louis’ chest, feeling Louis rest his head on his. “Tell me how to fix it,” Harry whispered. “I’ll do it,” he promised, squeezing Louis tighter.

Louis just rocked the both of them back and forth, squeezing Harry tight like he knew Harry liked, and said, “Can we watch a movie?”

Harry huffed a laugh and looked up at him, but Louis’ eyes were still puppy-dog-ish, the way they are before he starts to cry, so he nodded. “What kind of movie?”

Louis thought on it and said, “Something sweet? Disney?”

Harry smiled and leaned up to press a kiss under Louis’ jaw. “Promise not to make fun of me?” he asked, and Louis nodded. Harry blushed a tiny bit and said, “I rented _Brave_. Everyone said it was good.”

Louis smiled, not quite reaching his eyes but almost, and asked, “Was it good?”

Harry was momentarily distracted by the fingers rubbing in circles against his skin, but he nodded eventually and said, “Yeah. It was really sweet. Accent is kind of like Niall’s…only Scottish.” Louis laughed a little, and Harry said, “Watch it with me?” Louis leaned down and kissed Harry sweetly before he nodded.

\---

By the time Merida discovered she’d turned her mum into a bear, Harry and Louis were snogging. Louis wasn’t taking, but Harry was giving everything he could, wanting to distract Louis from being sad. He lay on top of Louis and let his hands rub all over Louis’ chest and arms and sides, stroking at skin wherever Louis’ shirt rode up or scooped down, licking into his mouth and sucking his bottom lip.

Harry felt himself getting a little hard, and he tried to slow the kiss down – he wasn’t that good at it, but Louis seemed to catch on and helped him do it – and then stuck to pressing little kitten kisses onto Louis’ cheeks or neck.

“So, you talked to your mum?” Louis finally asked, and Harry nodded absentmindedly.

“Mmm, she’s gonna bring him over so we can meet him,” he said into Louis’ wet skin.

“We?” Louis questioned, and Harry pulled back to give him pleading, innocent puppy eyes. Louis sighed and rolled his eyes, nodding. “We,” he assured, and kissed Harry again.


	15. Part 14.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has a tiny bit of mentioned homophobia, slight use of the (disgusting) word 'faggot'. Just to let you know. I don't know if that's technically a trigger warning, but if it is, let me know and I'll give you lots of love and a summary of the chapter if you need. .xx

Louis ran down the field, swerving in and out of his teammates. When the best defender on the team stepped up in front of him, Louis glanced over and saw Harry, who had been running easily and tirelessly, keeping up with him nearly every step of the way, wide open. Louis passed him the ball and tried to dodge around the defender, but couldn’t, and seconds later, all of the Shirts – Louis and Harry’s team – cheered. Louis looked upfield and saw Harry smiling, blushing at the attention from all the Shirts and a few of the nicer Skins. Harry had scored.

Coach yelled, “NOW, _THAT’S_ WHAT I WANNA SEE, STYLES!”

Louis grinned upfield, where Harry was staring, mouth halfway open. Stan jogged by and laughed, and lifted a finger to shut Harry’s jaw. He said something to Harry that made Harry look positively _thrilled_ , but Louis couldn’t hear what it had been. He saw Harry’s lips forming “Thank you thank you thank you thank you”, and then he saw Harry running towards him, sprinting.

Harry stopped short, realizing they were on the field, and Louis grinned and nodded, letting Harry know they’d talk on the way to Harry’s work.

Louis waited, sweaty and a bit smelly, for Harry to get out of the showers and get dressed and make it out so they could get to the bakery.

Bakery. Mark. Dad. _Mum_.

“Ready?”

Louis startled a little, but smiled automatically when he saw Harry, curls still soaking wet and looking like a young Tarzan, and nodded.

Safely in the car, Louis was about to start the engine when Harry threw his arms around Louis. “Coach said I could start in the first game!” He practically shouted into Louis’ ear.

Louis knew his face was a mask of surprise and elation. “Are you _serious_?!” He cried ecstatically. “That’s _amazing_ , babe, I’m so proud of you!” He pressed kisses all over Harry’s face and in his hair and leaned uncomfortably around to hug Harry tighter. “I _knew_ you could do it!”

Harry beamed with the praise and attention, but pulled back slightly to say, “Not without you, though. Thank you, thank you so much for drilling me so hard!”

Louis kept his face blank at that comment, willing his dirty mind not to run away with it. He grinned and started the car, looking at the clock on the dash and noting they were a few minutes late. He sped off as Harry wrestled his phone from his bag to text Liam, Niall, and Anne, too impatient to wait.

Louis pulled up to the curb next to the bakery and parked the car before he leaned over and pecked Harry’s lips. “I mean it,” he said quietly, putting a hand on the side of Harry’s neck. “I am so proud of you.”

Harry smiled bashfully and nodded. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“I love you,” Louis sing-songed to him, and Harry giggled.

“I love you, too.” With that, Harry leaned in and pressed one more kiss before turning and hopping out of the car and practically prancing into the bakery.

Louis watched Harry go, his little bum bouncing to and fro with Harry’s goofy and sporadic movements. Harry opened the door to the bakery and jumped up, striking a pose upon landing as he double-fisted the air and shouted something. Bessy and two other women Louis didn’t know dropped what they were doing and scurried over to him, hugging him and cheering. Harry hugged them all back, his long arms almost completely encircling them all, pulling them close like they were family.

Louis smiled and shifted gears as he pulled away from the curb with a short blast on his horn, signaling to Harry. Through the shop window, he saw Harry whip around and smile, waving with an entire arm. Louis chuckled to himself and made his way home, thinking about (surprise) Harry.

January had been a bit of a boring, yet increasingly emotional month – for Louis and Harry. With Louis, it had meant telling the girls of their parents’ impending divorce, and then sending in all of his applications to colleges with January deadlines – and, now that his parents were divorcing, applying for scholarships, as he wasn’t sure he’d be getting financial help from Mark. For _Harry_ , it had meant finding the courage and patience to speak with Anne more about her boyfriend, Robin, and setting a date (consequently, tomorrow) to have him ‘round for dinner.

Also, Harry’s sixteenth birthday was coming up.

\---

_Hey, I’m ready. Come get me? Hurry, please?_

A few days later, Louis read the message two extra times as he stood in line, wondering if he was imagining the plaintive tone to it, or if it was down to knowing Robin was coming for dinner. Harry had been pretty moody all day (although he was very careful not to bring the attitude onto the field, as now, the coach was watching), and he had been unnervingly silent on the way to the bakery. Louis knew he was equal parts angry at the situation and nervous, and he couldn’t fault Harry, because Louis was feeling the same, albeit with much less intensity. If nothing else, this meeting would probably be better than when he met Mark, as Harry probably wouldn’t throw around toy cars or maim Robin.

Probably.

_Be there in a min., I’m just around the corner. Vanilla or choc?_

_Twist, please?_

Louis ordered the shakes and hurried to his car, placing the cups in the cup holder as he turned the key and pulled away from the curb carefully. He hoped Harry would be alright with this dinner; if nothing else, Louis could always take Harry out and allow Anne to have dinner at her home with Robin.

Harry was sitting at the curb, feet in the road and head on his knees, arms wrapped over his head. Bessy sat next to him, rubbing his back and obviously talking to him. Louis pulled the car in close, not wanting to park and run over Harry’s feet, and put it in park, not bothering to turn it off as he hopped out, and ignoring the frustrated drivers as his car was half-in and half-out of the spot.

Louis took the few quick steps over to Harry and wrapped his arms around him, pulling him to stand as he asked what was wrong. Harry shook his head and wrapped his arms around Louis’ waist, burying his head in Louis’ chest. Louis looked to Bessy in question, and she just looked at the ground and shook her head.

“He’ll tell you, if he wants,” she said in her old, scratchy voice, and walked back into the bakery after adding quietly, “Feel better, baby. We love you.”  
Louis was frustrated as he pulled Harry to the car, and thankful when Harry started buckling his own seatbelt. Louis jogged around to his side of the car and pulled off, glancing at Harry, who was now leaned against the window, staring out it and wiping across his eyes every now and again. Louis swallowed when Harry, not looking away from the window, reached a hand out to find Louis’ on the gearshift. Louis let Harry thread their fingers together, and squeezed them gently, as he continued to drive.

“Home, or mine, or the Jungle?” Louis prompted. “And there’s your twist shake,” he added, glancing to the cup holder.

Harry let go of Louis’ hand and turned as he picked up his milkshake, moving sluggishly, like he didn’t even want to. “Just…mine, I guess,” he mumbled, sniffing as he looked down.

Louis nodded, glancing at his boyfriend every few seconds as he drove in silence. When they were on Harry’s street, Louis took his eyes off the road to look at him again. “Harry,” he said again. “You – will you tell me what’s wrong? Please?”

Harry waited until Louis pulled up into his drive and parked the car before he started crying a little more earnestly. It wasn’t noisy or dramatic, his crying; it was nearly silent, just tears falling on his cheeks and little hitched breaths and sniffs, cheeks reddening in shame, and Louis was reminded of when Anne had called hysterically, begging him to come over because Harry was ill and crying for him.

Spurred by his thoughts, Louis reached down and pushed his seat back away from the steering wheel as far as he could before he lurched for Harry, pulling him to basically straddle him in the seat.

Harry curled around Louis, yearning for the comfort, and Louis leaned down and pressed kisses to the corner of his lips and along his cheeks and jawline, wherever he could reach to comfort.

“I –” Harry started, breaths hitching to cut off his speech as he rubbed at his eyes. “I – it’s just been a –” _sob_ “really – rotten – _day_ ,” he said, bringing his other hand to rub at his eyes. As he talked, though, he seemed to get more and more worked up. Louis rubbed his upper arms, murmuring little nonsensical things, wanting to understand and wanting to comfort.

“What happened, Hazza?” he asked, genuinely concerned. He hated seeing Harry cry – it was like watching a puppy be kicked over and over again. Maybe punched in the snout, too.

“I – almost made us – late, this – morning, to school,” he said, hitching and letting out a little sob, and Louis went to calm him down, but was cut off by more. “And then – I forgot my – paper, and – Mr. C w-was – mean ab-about it, and – then in – bio-logy I m-messed up – when I was – dissecting th-the frog – be-cause it – made m-me f-feel ill –” _sob_ “and my – partner m-made fun of – me and said that’s – why I’m – a – a – a f-faggot – ” Harry sniffed and let out another sob, and Louis clenched his jaw, knowing there was more as he listened with dread. Harry continued to get more and more worked up. “Faggot – she called me – that – in-in front of – of _everyone_ ,” he wailed, and flung himself down onto Louis, pressing his face closer and closer to Louis’ chest like he wanted to kiss Louis’ actual heart. His next cries were muffled, and Louis sank his fingers into Harry’s sweaty hair. “An-and then my – whole class – they all – started s-saying it. And it – it wasn’t ev-ven that – bad, unt-til then someone s-said I was – was – was –”

Even in his tears, Louis could feel the heat of Harry’s face as he blushed, saying the next words. “S-sucking y-your…your d-dick.” He sobbed so much he actually gagged at that point, and Louis grabbed his shoulders and pushed him back so he could get some deep breaths.

“Hey, hey,” he cooed as Harry gulped lungfuls of air in between sobs. “ _You_ know the truth. _You_ know what you are, and who you are, and what you are to me. _You_ know I love you. Don’t let those idiots upset you, okay?” Harry started nodding, and then he shook his head and let out another sob, ducking his face into his hands as he sat atop Louis’ lap. “Is there more?” Louis asked quietly, dreading the answer, and when Harry nodded, letting out a tiny high-pitched whimper, Louis clucked his tongue and enveloped Harry as wholly as he could. “Go on when you’re ready,” he said.

Harry took a few minutes to compose himself a little more, and he had stopped sobbing so much and sat up a little when he continued, “They – said that I was…I was doing that and – and that’s why you – were keeping me around.” He sniffled and shook his head when Louis opened his mouth, saying, “I know it’s not – I know. It’s – just not nice, is all.”

Louis nodded and rubbed at Harry’s hip, and swallowed a little lump in his own throat when Harry kept going.

“It’s – and then the teacher told everyone to – shut up, and so – and then at lunch, someone pushed me a li-little and – and I dropped my tray, but the – lunch lady wouldn’t – she wouldn’t let me go get more. So I was _hungry_ – and Niall and Liam shared, but I was – late to-to lunch anyway, so it – wasn’t, like, much. And then – I missed that pass in football, and – and Coach _saw_ it –” He buried his face in his hands again and whined. “And he’s probably gonna – gonna put me back down on – on the bench again. And then I – the girls at – at the bakery don’t like doing the rubbish? S-so I d-do it for them. And then I – I was in the alley, taking it out, and – and this big mean dog – he j-jumped at me, and I f-fell, and all the rubbish went – went all over, and I – I was scared and the dog just growled ‘til J-Janice came and saw, and she – she threw a loaf of br-bread, and it ran off with it. But then, that was the – that was bread someone came t-to pick up today, and we – had to tell her we messed up, and she – got really angry at us. And then, now, Rob-Robin’s com-coming…just a really _shit_ day,” he finished off, leaning forward again and pressing the top of his head to Louis’ sternum.

Louis lifted Harry’s chin and leaned in and kissed him thoroughly, Harry’s hands coming to rest at Louis’ chest, fingertips curled to touch him through his t-shirt. Louis let his tongue caress Harry’s and sucked on it gently, and made sure the kiss was slow, sweet. He wasn’t intending it to go anywhere; he wanted to comfort.

He broke the kiss and pressed more little tiny kisses to Harry’s lips and cheeks and nose. “I’m so sorry you had such an awful day, sweetheart,” he said, knowing Harry liked the pet names. A lot. “But I wasn’t upset at being nearly late – and neither of us were late, and that’s more important, right?” Harry nodded, still clearly upset about it, but Louis went on. “Mr. C’s a prick to everyone, okay? That’s not just you. People forget stuff all the time; it’s not a big deal to him. He probably just hasn’t gotten laid ‘cause his wife’s pregnant. It’s not you, babe. And as for your partner? Well, _fuck her_.” Harry looked a little shocked that Louis could say something so mean with such vehemence, but Louis shook his head. “She had _no right_ to say that about you, and _fuck_ the rest of your biology class, while you’re at it. They don’t know _anything_ , they don’t know anything about us, about our relationship, okay? They don’t know me, and they damn sure don’t know you, and I don’t want you to listen to any of them, alright? Ignore them.” Harry nodded, and Louis thumbed away a few tears softly. “I’m sorry you dropped your tray. I keep food in the boot of the car – just junk food and stuff, mostly, but I’ll get a key made for you so you can come get some whenever you’re hungry. Don’t even have to ask. And Coach isn’t about to boot you off the line-up for a missed pass. I miss passes all the time – it’s not that big of a deal, okay, love? It’s not, really. I mean it. Coach’s seen how much effort you’ve put in and how much improvement you’ve made since the start of school. He won’t do that to you.” Louis pressed a kiss to Harry’s nose before he said, “I’ll have to thank Janice when I see her; I’m glad you’re okay, sweetie. It’s okay, that woman can go be angry. If I have to choose between a disgruntled customer and your leg not being chomped off, I think I’ll let some woman yell a bit.” Harry let out a small laugh at that, and Louis grinned, glad he could pull it. “Dinner tonight…will be tense. It’ll be awkward, and you might hate the man. But you might not. Don’t hate tonight until it starts, okay?”

Harry sniffed one last time and nodded, groaning as he put a hand up to his head. “Headache,” he whined a little.

Louis nodded and patted his thighs, urging Harry to get up. “Let’s go get you something for your head, and then we can have a little quick power nap before dinner. What do you say?”

\---

Louis kissed Harry’s cheek quickly right as Anne grabbed the doorknob. She opened the door and the mountain of a man stepped in, smiling radiantly as he looked down at Anne. He leaned down and kissed her cheek and said quietly, “Hi.” It made Anne blush and Louis looked over at Harry to see his reaction, which was surprisingly calm. Given the circumstances, of course.

Robin gave her a bundle of flowers and she blushed even more, and then turned and held her arm out to point out Harry and Louis to Robin.

“Robin, this is Louis,” she said with a smile as Louis stepped forward with a polite smile and shook his hand. “And this is my Harry,” she said, gushing just a little bit and grinning like mad. “Lads, this is Robin Twist.” Harry stepped forward to grip his hand. Louis was busy watching Harry’s face, but from the tiny curl of Harry’s lip, Louis guessed that Harry was probably doing that grip-your-hand-so-tight-it-hurts-so-you-know-I’m-in-charge thing.

There was a slightly tense silence, though Harry hadn’t said anything and didn’t even look particularly upset, and Anne coughed. “Right, well. I’ll go – erm, put these in water,” she said. “Dinner’s about ready, if you’d like to get your drinks and everything,” she added.

Robin nodded his agreement, and then nodded to Louis and Harry as he walked past them towards the kitchen to go and get his drink. Louis looked over at Harry, who was being pretty quiet, and smiled encouragingly.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he whispered. Louis leaned in and pressed a kiss to Harry’s temple. “I love you,” he reminded Harry.

Harry seemed to relax at that and said, “I love you, too,” quietly before he hugged Louis. They broke apart and walked into the kitchen, both getting their drinks – Louis drinking tea along with Harry. Louis sat down at the table, directly across from Robin, so that Harry wouldn’t have to, and Harry went to help his mum in the kitchen.

“Do you need any help?” Robin asked, moving to get up, but Harry said, “It’s fine, mate, thanks,” and Robin sat back down, accepting it. Harry hadn’t been _short_ , but it hadn’t exactly been polite, and Louis saw from his seat at the table – Robin’s back was turned from the kitchen – Anne shoot an anxious look that went unnoticed by Harry, who was making all the plates.

“Extra tenderloin, or extra potatoes, Lou?” Harry called out sweetly, and Louis smiled.

“Could I get a bit extra of both?” Louis called out hopefully, and Harry nodded, cutting the meat and adding it to Louis’ plate before passing it to Anne, who added extra potatoes.

“Robin?”

“Erm, tenderloin, if you don’t mind,” Robin called out cheerfully.

Harry said, “No problem,” and cut the meat before he brought Robin’s and Louis’ plates. Anne brought hers and Harry’s.

Louis may have been looking too closely, but it definitely seemed like Harry set Louis’ plate down a smidge lighter than he did Robin’s – apparently, Robin thought so, as well, by the look on his face, but he thanked Harry nonetheless, and the four of them sat down.

It was quiet, at first, and Louis started itching with the awkward. “So, Anne, how was your day?” he asked carefully as he took a bite of the (delicious) tenderloin.

Anne sent Louis a grateful look before she launched into a rave about her day – which had been magnificent – and towards the end of her story, she kept glancing at Harry, who was eating silently and only glancing up every once in a while. Immediately after her tale, Louis started talking about his day so she wouldn’t ask Harry – it would only end in disaster – and Harry’s knee pressed against his momentarily under the table in thanks. Louis pressed back.

After talking about Stan’s pitiful attempt at chatting up a mum of a classmate – which had actually happened, in his calculus class – he asked Robin how his day was.  
Robin looked a bit surprised, but started talking a bit about his own day as Harry started to grow a little restless – usually, dinner was his most talkative time – and Louis started to get a little nervous as a result.

As Louis ate and kept an eye on Harry, Harry fidgeted and stayed silent, Robin talked about his day, and Anne listened raptly. Robin mentioned a lot about work, and Louis feigned actual interest and asked, “Oh, what do you do?” just as Harry coughed and started leaning closer to Louis.

“I’m a supervisor for a computer graphic designing company,” Robin said after he swallowed his food. He scooped up another forkful, but didn’t eat as he continued, “which basically just means I train new guys and make sure nobody messes up. Basically, I play daddy to all the –”

“I’m gay,” Harry blurted. Everyone at the table looked up at him, but he only stared at Robin. Louis’ stomach sunk, knowing where Harry was taking this.

“Erm – what?” Robin said, looking to Anne and back at Harry. Anne was staring at Harry, begging him with her eyes.

“I’m gay,” Harry repeated. “I like boys. With penises, who can put them in me. I like it if they can make me scream like a dirty whore. ”

“ _Harry_!” Anne said, a little mortified, but Robin didn’t answer – just stared at Harry.

“Louis’ my boyfriend,” Harry continued belligerently, nodding his head at Louis. Louis blushed, but stuck to his boyfriend’s side.

Robin’s gaze flickered over to Louis, but Harry continued before he could speak.

“He’s over here all the time, up in my room with me.” When Robin didn’t really react, Harry added, “He puts his penis in me all the time, in this very house.” Louis dropped his head into his hands but didn’t say anything, and Anne said Harry’s name again, almost desperately.

“That’s great, Harry,” Robin said, clearly feeling a mixture of things.

Harry seethed, and Louis actually got nervous to see his reaction, because that was the wrong answer. “We _lock_ the _door_ , you perverted _bastard_.”

“ _Harry_!” Anne nearly shrieked and stood up. “Stop it! This is ridiculous!” She looked to Robin, but Robin merely looked back at her and said, “I think this is something that Harry and I should talk about, Anne. You can leave if you want, but I think I’d better stay here.”

Anne looked torn, clearly not wanting to leave her son, and not wanting to leave her boyfriend, but not wanting to hear the conversation, either.

“I’ll stay, Anne,” Louis said, dropping his hands from his face. “You can go; I’ll stay here.”

Anne stared at Louis for a long time, and Louis tried to look supportive and brave, and convey that he’d never let anything happen to Harry. She must have seen something in there, because she looked between Harry and Robin one last time and walked upstairs.

Robin watched her go, and then he looked at Harry. “Listen, mate,” he said, sounding tired, “I’m not about to watch you and your boyfriend fuck around. I’m not into guys.”

“Bet my mouth or Lou’s arse could change that,” Harry said smoothly. Louis’ cheeks caught fire, and he stood only to lean far enough to reach Anne’s wine glass and snag it for himself. “Unless you’re into taking it. In that case, our penises are lovely.”

Robin stared evenly at Harry and shook his head. “No, thanks, mate. I’d rather not take anything up the arse. Feel like it’d hurt too much, and I’ve not got the best pain tolerance.”

“Oh, it’d be worth it,” Harry said, and _honestly_ , Louis wanted to know where all this confidence and bravado was coming from. “There’s a little bundle of nerves up there called the prostate, and it’s –”

“I know what a prostate is, Harry.”

Harry stopped short when Robin cut in, but then he smiled, and it looked falsely sweet and deathly dangerous. “I don’t like being interrupted, Robin.” Robin didn’t answer, and Harry continued, “It’s a little bundle of nerves, and when you hit it, and pain you’ve felt is _so_ worth it, mate. I’m telling you. You’ve gotta try it.”

Robin was uncomfortable – he _had_ to be – but he wasn’t even squirming. He just said, “Harry, really, I’m not into little boys.”

Harry stood up swiftly and took his shirt off, staring at Robin as he did it. Robin’s eyes stayed trained to Harry’s face. “Go on, Robin,” Harry encouraged softly, drawing a finger up and down his long torso. “You can look. I’ve got four nipples; wanna see them? You can have a look.”

Robin flinched at Harry’s tone, and even Louis was uncomfortable by it. It wasn’t Harry’s normal tone. It was more like…he was trying to make it sound young, and mix it with seduction. It was twisted and wrong, and nobody liked it. “Harry,” Louis whispered, looking up at him.

“Shhh,” Harry said, looking down at Louis. He stroked his face. “We want Robin to join us, don’t we? Be good, don’t talk,” he cooed disgustingly, and bent down to kiss Louis. It was, by far, the filthiest kiss and messiest kiss Harry had ever shared with him, and it was dominating and full of anger, but also, fear. Even though Harry was clearly just putting on a show to see if Robin would take the bait, he needed to be comforted in that moment. Louis brought his hands up to cup Harry’s head, and then they heard the scrape of a fork against a plate.

They broke the kiss and looked over to Robin, who was midway to shoving food into his mouth. He paused when he felt their stare, and he said, “Oh, sorry, but as we’re not talking, I thought I’d eat. It’s good food, and I like it.”

Harry looked back at Louis, and he squared his shoulders before turning and leaning towards Robin over the table, planting his hands on the wood firmly. “Let me suck you off,” he murmured, a filthy smirk gracing his face.

Louis didn’t know what to say – Harry didn’t even say those things to _him_ – and Robin coughed, choking a little. Louis passed him the glass of wine he hadn’t yet finished, and Robin raised the glass to him before downing it, easing his throat.

“Harry,” he said, and he finally sounded stern. “You’ve got to stop it, mate. I’m here because I care about your _mum_ ; I didn’t even know what you looked like until the day you saw me and your mum in the living room. _I am straight_. That’s not homophobia; I don’t have a problem if you and Louis stick your cocks into any orifice you can find, so long as it’s not any of mine. I also don’t fancy myself kids. So whatever you’ve got going on in your head, it needs to _stop_ , because I can’t save you if you won’t let me, but I’ll be damned if I’m walking away from your mum. She’s the best thing that’s happened to me in a very long time.”

Harry stopped and straightened up, looking a little stumped and very shocked, before he bent down and retrieved his shirt. He put it back on, never taking his eyes off Robin. He grabbed the bottle of wine, took a massive swig of it and pulled a face at the bitterness, still watching Robin. He finally broke his gaze with Robin to look at Louis. He moved close to Louis and said quietly to him, “Make sure he doesn’t follow me? I’ll be right back.” When Louis nodded, Harry stood and went upstairs, watching Robin until he was on the stairs and couldn’t see.

Robin looked at Louis and said, “What’s his problem?”

Louis looked evenly at him and said, “Men.”

Robin nodded and licked his lips. “Men like me?” he asked, and Louis glared at him icily.

“Put it this way: if you’re a man he has problems with, I’ll kill you myself, even if that means pushing Anne out of the way.”

Robin clearly didn’t know what it meant, which Louis took as a good sign, because Harry wouldn’t like Robin knowing his personal business without expressed permission. Louis sighed, and Robin raised his eyebrows. “Me and Harry are probably going to leave,” Louis said. “And we’ll come back whenever he feels like it. Either way, just…don’t go upstairs, yeah? He’ll be cross.”

Robin furrowed his brows, but he nodded. “I wasn’t planning to, you know,” he said. “Stay the night, I mean. Anne and I…we’re not there.”

“Yet,” Louis supplied, fishing for Harry’s sake.

Robin nodded slowly. “Yet,” he confirmed. “I hope to be around for a long time.”

Louis stared at Robin, sizing him up and looking for a hole in his sincerity, and nodded slowly. “Well, just so you know, I’ve been here longer. And I’ll be around for a long time, too.” Robin nodded, and Louis added, “I mean it. If you’re someone Harry has a problem with, I’ll kill you.”

Before Robin could answer, Anne came downstairs, trailing after Harry. Harry’s face was burning a bit, but it was nothing compared to Anne’s, and Harry kissed her forehead before looking beseechingly at Louis. Louis stood up, nodded to Robin, kissed Anne’s cheek, and walked to Harry. He placed his hand on the small of Harry’s back and led him out the front door, knowing Harry needed time in the jungle.


	16. Part 15.

Harry sat in the front seat of Louis’ car, fighting tears and filled with dread. Louis hadn’t spoken once on the drive to the jungle, and he hadn’t said anything now that the car was parked in front of it. Louis turned the car off and unbuckled his seatbelt, sighing as he turned his body towards Harry. Harry could feel Louis watching him. Waiting.

Harry closed his eyes as a wave of shame swept over him. “You hate me now,” he whispered, voice catching a little on ‘hate’. He coughed to clear his throat.

Louis was quiet for a moment, and Harry looked over with dread, but Louis shook his head.

“No,” he said as quietly. “No, I don’t hate you.”

Harry closed his eyes so he wouldn’t get dizzy from the relief. Still, though – “You’re disappointed in me.”

This time, Louis waited for Harry to see him, and then he nodded. “A little bit,” he admitted. Harry couldn’t answer; he just hung his head and fought some more tears. Louis reached over and pressed a finger onto Harry’s knee. “I just…Robin didn’t deserve that, Harry. He has no idea what happened to you. Anne didn’t tell him.”

“Jesus,” Harry whispered, bringing his feet up into the seat and sliding his hands over his face, bending to put his hands on his knees and let his head rest there. Harry let out a few tears, felt his body shake a few times, but didn’t make any noise. Louis rubbed his back with a tender hand, like he didn’t know what Harry needed. Harry sniffed and wiped his face suddenly, looking up at Louis. “I didn’t – I didn’t know he didn’t know,” he told Louis. “I didn’t know.”

Louis nodded, still rubbing Harry’s back, and said, “Would it have been okay if he’d known?”

It stumped Harry – he wasn’t sure. For some reason, Robin not knowing seemed to make it ten times more awful, but… “It still isn’t okay,” he said slowly, thinking it over. He looked over to Louis and said, “You – I embarrassed you.”

Louis took his time to answer again, and Harry felt wretched. “Just a bit,” Louis said, and it soothed a little amount, but not enough. “All your talk about what I do to you. When you – you tried to convince him to have sex with us, Harry. We haven’t even – we haven’t even taken _clothes_ off. Why did you put my bum up for auction?”

Harry choked on a sob and buried his face in hands again, and Louis stopped and got out of the car, came around to Harry’s side. “Come on,” he said, pulling one of Harry’s hands. “My car isn’t comfy enough. Come on.”

Louis dragged Harry from the car, across the pavement of the parking lot, and they walked into the dark together. Louis and Harry stumbled in the dark towards where they both knew the switch was, and Harry stood by as the place lit up after Louis hit the switch. They both walked to the stairs, Harry wiping his eyes a few times, knowing they would have to talk about everything, and feeling horrible for letting Louis down, and embarrassing his mum.

Harry let Louis pull Harry down the hallways and into the jungle room; the sounds from the radio of the stream and random animal noises made Harry take a deep breath. Louis pulled Harry to the bed and helped him up before climbing up himself, and Harry ached to be held, but he knew he had to talk first. Louis sat quietly and waited for Harry to think.

“You – you’re not up for auction,” Harry blurted out. “You’re mine. You’re – please still…please don’t stop loving me,” he pleaded.

Louis leaned forward and stoked his face, eyes sad. “Hey,” he cooed, “I still love you. I do; I mean it. I’m not about to go running off after one bad day. I’ll love you no matter what. I’m not gonna finish with you for this. But we have to talk about this, alright?”

Harry nodded, brought a hand up over Louis’ to keep it there and closed his eyes, leaning into the touch. Eventually, though, Louis pulled his hand away, and Harry knew it was time to talk. He scooted closer and folded his legs so his knees touched Louis’ knees, and looked down at his lap.

“I – I’m really sorry,” Harry said earnestly. “I don’t…I don’t really know what happened? I was trying, and it was working, and he was being nice enough – and – and Mum told me they aren’t shagging, so it’s not even like – like that thought got to me, or anything. It just –” Harry put his face in his hands and rocked himself a little, and Louis’ arms wrapped around Harry’s back, rubbing him through his jumper.

“Harry, I’m not even half as concerned about you liking Robin as I am of how you reacted,” Louis said, honesty tearing at Harry. He hesitated before he said slowly, “I thought you…weren’t afraid of men, anymore?”

Harry pulled away from Louis and shook his head frantically. “I’m not – I wasn’t – I’m not _afraid_ of Robin,” he said emphatically. “I mean, I – he kind of…makes me nervous, but I’m not _scared_ of him. Really, I’m not. I – I just didn’t – I can’t let my mum date a – guy like my dad. I couldn’t – I had to make sure.”

“So seduction was your choice?” Louis asked, looking incredulous. “Christ, Harry, what –”

Harry groaned, cutting Louis off. “I know, I know, and then I thought – I thought, “What if he – what if he actually does it?” and I got so freaked out, okay, Lou? I just _freaked_ out and I didn’t –” Harry started sobbing, remembering the fear coursing through him as he whipped off his shirt in front of Robin. “I didn’t –”

Louis pulled Harry in, leaning back against the vines of the bed as he did, and Harry sprawled between Louis’ legs to sob into his shirt. Louis put a hand on Harry’s back and a hand in his hair as Harry sobbed openly. “Today’s been such a bad day for you, hasn’t it, love?”

Harry sobbed and nodded against Louis’ chest, and Louis shushed and cooed at him, rubbing over his hair and back until Harry was ready. It took a while.

Harry turned his head so his cheek was against Louis’ chest and he could breathe and talk easier, and he whispered, “There’s no excuse to – I was so awful to him and he – he was so _nice_.” Louis must have heard Harry’s voice squeak a bit at the end, because he scratched a little at Harry’s scalp, and Harry took a deep, slightly shuddery breath. “He was so nice and he – didn’t want me. He didn’t – he doesn’t _want me_ –”

Louis shook his head. “No, not that way, he doesn’t.”

“I just…I just freaked out. We – there’s never, ever been another man in that house, Lou. We moved there after – after it happened, and – and other than, like, _maintenance men_ , and you, there’s never been – and he was there, and he was _big_ and he’s – if mum stays with him and, like, marries him or something, he’s – he’s bigger than – than my dad was, and he could – he could hurt us.”

Harry felt himself breathing faster and faster, but Louis interrupted him. “Listen to me,” he said a little sternly. “You are gonna be just fine. I won’t let anyone hurt you, I mean it.”

Harry felt a little calmer just at those words, and tipped his chin up and kissed his lips slowly, repeating those words between kisses until Harry really just wanted to sleep.

Louis didn’t let him, though. “So…what do you think we should do?” he asked.

Harry’s blood ran cold and he felt suddenly wide awake. “You want to put me in therapy,” he whispered, feeling the disappointment flood through him as he looked down at Louis’ shirt.

Louis sighed above him, and said, “Harry, I’m your boyfriend; not your – I’m not in charge of you. Alright? If you want to go to therapy, I’ll gladly drive and pick you up and support and encourage you. If you don’t, I’m not gonna press you about it because I’ve never been to therapy and I don’t know how it works but I don’t think it’s something someone should be forced into. I meant – I meant what are you gonna do when you go home?”

Harry’s eyes widened as he realized he’d have to go home eventually and face his mum. Like, actually talk to her about this. “Oh, my god,” he groaned, “Mum’s gonna _kill_ me.”

Louis huffed out a laugh and muttered, “You’ll understand, though.”

Which – ouch, kind of. Harry flinched from Louis’ words, pulling away from Louis and sitting up, even though he knew it was completely true. “I already feel bad, Lou,” he said reproachfully, the discomfort swimming in his stomach.

Louis looked contrite, and he reached for Harry as he said, “I’m sorry, I am.” Harry let himself be pulled back down, too oversensitive to fight it, and Louis traced a path on the back of Harry’s arm with his fingers, scratching through Harry’s hair with the other as Harry thought quietly about what he should to.

“I’ll – have to apologize to my mum first,” he said slowly, feeling Louis nod. “…And then, I’ll – can we meet with Robin? You and me? Only, I wanna talk to him but I’m not – I don’t wanna be alone with him.”

Harry felt Louis stop breathing, and he lifted his face to rest his chin on Louis’ chest, getting a good look at Louis’ face. “I’ll be good,” he insisted. “I just – I don’t see myself ever _wanting_ him in my life, but…I don’t want him _gone_ , either. Not really. I – my mum really likes him, and he – was nice to me, even though I…well, acted like a prat. I just…don’t want him to give up on Mum.”

Louis watched Harry for what felt like an hour solid, and finally he nodded, something like pride in his blue eyes. “Okay,” he told Harry. “Alright. We can meet up with him. But if you start…freaking out again, I’m going to bodily carry you to my car and take you away. For your mum’s sake. Alright?”

Harry nodded, glad Louis respected his mum and had a clear enough head that he’d piss off Harry to defend her if he needed to. He wondered, though, “Why didn’t you stop me, earlier? Not that I’m blaming you,” he added hastily when Louis’ eyebrows rose. “I just – was wondering. You looked humiliated, but…you didn’t stop me. Why?”

Louis breathed evenly and deliberately as he stroked up and down Harry’s back through his shirt, eventually supplying, “It wasn’t my place to stop it.” When Harry knew his confusion was written on his face, Louis elaborated. “I believe you, you know, when you say it doesn’t affect you and you’re pretty much over…what happened. I believe you, and I know that just because you freaked out with Robin, doesn’t mean you’re suddenly _not okay_ anymore. I get that.” Harry closed his eyes and buried his face in Louis’ shirt, glad Louis understood. “It wouldn’t have been right of me to stop you, even if I could have. You just – I guess I just thought you needed it. Needed to get that out, needed to test him like that. I didn’t like it, and I still don’t, and I think I’ll probably always hate that dinner, for the rest of my life, but…you needed it, and I won’t ever hold you back from something if you need it, Harry.”

Harry swallowed and nodded, face still buried in Louis’ shirt and pressed more of his weight down on him, wanting so bad to stop thinking, have Louis surrounding him – but he knew Louis’d never go for it, not after tonight, so he wouldn’t even bother trying. Louis sighed again, a bit more content than the ones previous, happy they got everything out in the open. Harry was happy, too, and he pressed a kiss to Louis’ chest through his shirt before he said, “I think you need to take me home. I have to talk to my mum.”

\---

Nearly two hours later, Harry found himself with his head in his mum’s lap, trying not to purr as she played with his hair. Robin was gone when Harry came home, and his mum had just been sitting on the couch, watching telly, so Harry sat down and explained everything – his whole day, and ended with bits of his talk with Louis. His mum had been silent the entire time Harry explained himself, and presently, she was thinking – sifting through everything.

Anne took a breath and Harry’s eyes flickered up to her face anxiously, scanning so he could know what to brace himself for. But Anne didn’t look mad, and she didn’t have that tired look about her eyes Harry had grown to associate with their discussions about Robin and Harry’s fears and discomforts. She looked understanding, and a tad guilty.

“I probably rushed it,” she said, looking at Harry’s hair instead of his eyes. “I should’ve let you get used to the idea on your own time.”

Harry sat up and turned around to her, shaking his head. “No, Mum, that’s what I’m saying. I – I just freaked out, like, I don’t really even get it, but it wasn’t that I wasn’t, like… _ready_ for him, or anything. I just – I dunno, really. I’m really sorry,” he added.

Anne nodded, smiled a little. “It’s okay,” she said. “Really. It’s better when it’s just us, anyway, isn’t it?”

Harry’s heart and stomach sank. Did that mean Robin had broken up with his mum already?

Harry snapped out of it when his mum leaned in to kiss his cheek. “I’m going to bed,” she announced. “I’ve got an early morning.”

It was a lie; Harry knew his mum was off the next day, but he let her go. If Robin had broken up with her, she probably wanted some alone time. And, honestly, so did Harry.

\---

Harry sat in his maths class, struggling and in the end, completely failing to keep up. He sent a furtive thanks up to whatever god was working his (or her, Harry reasoned) magic, thankful his boyfriend had already taken this class and could help him.

Truthfully, Harry just couldn’t concentrate. He kept worrying about his mum, worrying about Robin, wondering if therapy was something he should consider again and struggling with his nerves and pride dealing with that issue, getting distracted with thoughts of Louis, worrying about keeping up his game in football after his subpar performance a few days ago, when the entire day was awful, so he could keep his starting position, thinking on the fact that he’d barely seen Liam and Niall lately and knowing Louis hadn’t been seeing all that much of Stan and Zayn, trying to ignore the whispers surrounding him in biology (which, incidentally, was his next class), idly wondering what colleges Louis was considering for after high school (except, it wasn’t idle wondering – there was definite anxiety underlying, and Harry found himself constantly thinking about it), trying to get whatever random song was stuck in his head un-stuck, and trying to look like he was paying attention in class when, in reality, class was the furthest thing from his mind.

Harry thought he deserved an award.

Then again, he knew it was probably nothing compared to what Louis had on his plate. So when Harry opened his phone to see a new text from Louis, Harry tried to quell the slight irritation that, for the second day in a row, Louis was cutting practice early, which meant Harry would have to either walk or ask someone for a ride, and Louis wasn’t even telling him why.

_Family stuff, darling. You know I’d take you if I could, sorry. See you in footy x_

Harry sighed and, instead of answering, pulled up Liam’s number and sent him a text, asking if he could take Harry home after practice, and then Harry tried in earnest to focus on his maths lesson.

\---

Harry didn’t bother showering after practice, instead choosing to just wiggle back into his skinny jeans and throw on his t-shirt and coat, slipping his converse back on as he sighed. Louis left even earlier today than he did yesterday, jogging up to Coach and gesturing a little wildly before Coach nodded and Louis jogged off. Not even five minutes later, Harry’s attention was snagged by Louis nearly sprinting, hair still wet from the shower he must’ve taken in the locker room, to his car before speeding off, turning in the direction of the town, rather than the direction of his house.

Harry shouldered his bag and sat on the bench, checking his phone and groaning when he saw Liam had texted back during practice, apologizing about six billion times before and after saying he couldn’t take Harry home, as he had a doctor’s appointment – something about a check-up with his missing kidney situation.

“What’s wrong with you?”

Harry looked up and saw Stan pulling on a shirt, looking over at Harry in concern. Stan grinned and added, “What, missing your lover boy already?”

Harry blushed lightly but laughed it off, knowing Stan was only teasing, before he grimaced and said, “No; Liam can’t come pick me up. I’m on dinner duty tonight, so I’ve got to run, though. I’ll see you tomorrow, mate.”

He stood to leave, clapping Stan’s shoulder and turning away when Stan said, “I could take you home.”

Harry turned and eyed Stan. “You don’t mind? I live, like…ten minutes away from Louis’. By Louis’ driving. So, really, I live about twenty.”

Stan chuckled and nodded, saying, “It’s no problem, mate. I’ll get me shoes on, and we’ll be off!”

On the way home, Harry sat silently in the passenger seat of Stan’s car. Stan had seemed very serious on the way to his car, and it wasn’t until they were close to Harry’s that Stan said anything.

“You – you know Louis loves you, don’t you?” he said suddenly, taking his eyes off the road to watch Harry for a second.

Harry smiled a little, pleased other people could see it, and blushed faintly. “Yeah, I know,” he said, and cleared his throat. “I – I love him, too,” he added for good measure, because Stan looked at him when he started talking.

Stan was quiet for a second, considering that, and he said seriously, “This – this divorce is already taking its toll on him, Harry. He – I don’t know what it is, but it’s really getting to him. Maybe it’s just the new job; I don’t –”

“Job?” Harry interrupted, furrowing his brows. “What job? Lou doesn’t have a job. Turn here,” he added, motioning to the right, and Stan flicked on his blinker before making the turn.

Stan looked completely confused as he turned down Harry’s street. “Yeah, he does,” he said, puzzled. “He just recently got hired a few days ago; I think he started yesterday, or the day before? At that mechanic place, down off of Taft?”

Harry knew the place, but he hadn’t known Louis worked there. “Oh, right,” Harry said. “Right, yeah, it’s so new I forgot. Stupid, since, you know, that’s…where he is now,” Harry tested, glancing at Stan for his reaction.

Stan just nodded though, and Harry noticed they were nearly passing his house.

“Right here’s good. Thanks, Stan,” he said. Stan pulled over and Harry reached for his bag, but Stan stopped him, grabbing his arm.

When Harry looked around at him, Stan's face was serious. "I just want you to look out for him," he said. "Louis isn't - he doesn't do change very well, and I think he's struggling a lot with this. Just...look out for him, alright?"

Harry nodded, patting the hand Stan still had on his arm before he said, "I'll always look after Louis" and hopping out of the car. Harry patted the top of the car and walked around to his house, waving when Stan honked and drove off.

Harry opened the door and headed to the kitchen to start dinner, wondering why Louis wouldn’t tell him he got a job. Harry pulled out his phone and opened a new message.

_Come over for dinner after work, if you have time. .xx_


	17. Part 16.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Just wanted to give you a heads-up – I know I switch the point of views from Louis to Harry, but I won’t be doing that this chapter. Sorry if it throws anyone off! This is from Harry’s POV. Also, I need feedback, guys! Lots of love:) .xx

_Come here and let me in_

Harry checked his phone and groaned a little, tired, but got up nonetheless and walked downstairs. He turned the lock and opened the door, where Louis was shivering in the cold, and pulled him in by the front of his hoodie.

Louis immediately wrapped his body around Harry’s, desperately trying to rid himself of the cold, and Harry pushed the door shut behind Louis and turned the lock once more before extracting himself from Louis and leading him into the kitchen. Harry put on some water to boil for tea and Louis huddled as close as he could to it without actually catching fire from the burner. Harry pulled out cups teabags, sugar and milk for the tea, and a spoon, lining them up neatly on the opposite counter before he moved over to Louis and crowded in his space to warm him up, as he was still shivering.

Louis’ fingers were like ice on Harry’s bare back, but Harry just pressed himself closer to Louis and let him bury his frozen nose into the crook of his neck, making him wince, and rubbed his hands quickly up and down Louis’ biceps, trying to create friction to warm him up.

They stayed like that, quiet, until the water was hot enough, and Harry dislodged himself long enough to make the tea, passing Louis his cup as they both pulled themselves up onto the kitchen counter, watching each other carefully, knowing there was a lie hanging over their heads.

Carefully, lest Louis get the wrong idea, Harry said, “Missed you today.”

Louis took a sip of his tea, nodding, and said, “Missed you, too.” Harry watched Louis quietly, sipping his tea, and Louis sighed. “Harry, I got a job,” he confessed. “Which, by the text I got, I’m assuming you already know.”

Harry nodded slowly, watching Louis’ face as it changed from apprehension to a little bit of guilt and, shockingly, a bit of defiance.

“It’s at the mechanic’s. Five days a week – Monday to Thursday, and then Saturday. I tried to get as many hours as I could, but since I’m so new, they don’t want me working Sundays, as well.” Harry nodded even though he didn’t know _why_ Louis wanted a job, and Louis must have seen that, because he sighed again and set his cup down. “I don’t want to talk about it right now,” he said, with an air of finality, but he looked at Harry with questions in his eyes.

“Okay,” Harry said simply, knowing he wouldn’t push it. Louis was smart; Louis made good decisions, and Harry was his boyfriend – not his warden. He was curious, but he pushed it down, and leaned to press his lips to Louis’ cheek. “That’s alright,” he reassured, rubbing his thumb against Louis’ thigh.

Louis swallowed. “Can we go to bed?” he asked, and Harry slid off the counter and nodded, pulling gently at Louis’ hand.

They climbed up the stairs quietly, not wanting to wake up Harry’s mum, and when they reached Harry’s door, Louis stopped him by gently grabbing his arm. “I love you,” he whispered, and pressed a kiss to Harry’s mouth.

Harry’s hands immediately slid up to Louis’ shoulders, squeezing as he enthusiastically returned the kiss, letting his back hit his door as Louis continued crowding him. Louis let go of Harry’s bicep and wrapped his arms wrapped around Harry’s back, pulling him closer, and Harry broke the kiss when he felt a whimper climbing up his throat.

Breathing a little heavily, Harry fumbled for the doorknob, not looking away from Louis’ face. Finally, Harry found it and twisted, leaning back to open it. He and Louis slid into his room and the door had barely clicked shut when Harry pulled Louis back to him, aligning their bodies and finding he was taller than Louis, now.  
Harry wasn’t sure how to feel about it – shouldn’t the taller one be the one in charge? – and he didn’t want to be in charge, so he grabbed Louis’ hands as they kissed and started walking backwards towards his bed.

Harry sat down, pulling Louis with him, and Louis bent over Harry and put his knees on the edge of the bed, raised up so he could control the kiss. Harry moaned and his hands went to the back of Louis’ thighs, squeezing them tentatively. He didn’t really know what he was doing – he just wanted to touch Louis, wanted Louis to touch him back – but Louis didn’t seem to mind, if the way he moaned into Harry’s mouth was any indication.

Suddenly, Louis broke the kiss and shifted so that he was at Harry’s side, instead of kneeling over him, and he pulled Harry’s hands until Harry moved the way Louis obviously wanted to, crawling to fit himself between Louis’ bent knees, bracing himself over Louis’ body with his hands on either side of Louis’ head on the mattress.

Harry sighed into Louis’ mouth when Louis gripped his biceps momentarily before running his hands down Harry’s back, stopping at his waistline and moving back up to his shoulders and down his arms.

Harry smiled and let the tip of his tongue tease the underside of Louis’ tongue, pushing a bit against the crease of it down the middle as he licked up it, and back down. Harry felt his hips shift a little on their own accord and he sucked on Louis’ tongue, resisting the urge to put his fingers through Louis’ hair when he remembered that Louis had said no, the first time they’d really snogged.

Harry’s knees were starting to ache a bit, bruises and scrapes from football leaning heavily onto the duvet as he shifted into the kiss, keeping himself up so his groin wouldn’t rub against Louis’, and all he wanted was _more_ , wanted Louis’ weight pressing on him, wanted Louis to hold him and make the decisions and wanted his body pressed completely against Louis’, as much as possible. Harry slid a hand down Louis’ right side, rubbing down his chest and stomach, across his hip and up Louis’ thigh and to his knee, squeezing and then pushing down a little.

Louis got the hint and flattened his leg out, and Harry left his right hand grabbing at Louis’ left shoulder as he rolled off to his left, pulling at Louis’ shoulder as he went. Louis didn’t get the hint that time, though, and stayed on his back, turning his head to keep kissing Harry until Harry had to break it because of the uncomfortable and awkward angle.

Harry opened his eyes when the kiss broke and he looked over at Louis, on his back and mirroring Harry, kissed-raw lips and eyes a little too bright. Harry slid a hand into his own hair and pulled in frustration as he realized he’d all but blatantly _asked_ Louis to get on top of him, press down on him and crowd him in.  
Louis slid his hand over to Harry’s free one, and Harry smiled a little when he let Louis tangle their fingers together. “Good night,” Louis whispered, shifting to kiss Harry’s cheek before he stole a pillow and turned to sleep.

Harry sighed. He’d need some help with this.

 ---

“You just have to be detailed,” Niall explained the next day. “When you’re doin’ it, you have to tell him every single thing you want, and make it sound sexy.”

Harry groaned and flopped back on his bed. Louis had left practice early again, so Stan brought him home, and Harry had called Niall over, both wanting help and wanting quality time with his best mate – Liam was off with Dani for the night – because they hadn’t spent loads of time together, between school, football, and their own boyfriends.

“Niall, I don’t know _how_ to sound sexy,” he complained, frustrated. “I’ll just sound like an idiot.”

Niall let out a short laugh before he said, “Hazza, listen to me, mate. You’re not gonna sound like an idiot. And even if you do, Louis’ _still_ gonna think you’re sexy.” Harry flushed, staring at his ceiling and Niall continued on to say, “You just gotta talk a little slower, a little deeper, a little quieter.” Harry blushed and nodded at the instructions. “Give it a try,” Niall said, sitting back in the computer chair.

“What?!” Harry said, sitting up straight. “I can’t – I’m not gonna try to – what about Zayn?” he asked, feeling a little desperate.

Niall only chuckled, though, and said, “Trust me, Hazza – I’m all Zayn’s. You’re my best mate, and all, but I like fuckin’ way too much to ever go after you. We can’t all be Louis’.”

Harry blushed – he hadn’t really meant it like _that_ – but finally nodded, and he looked at Niall evenly and said, “You – you can’t laugh at me, alright? Or make fun of me, or anything.”

“I won’t,” Niall assured him – looked almost offended that Harry’d think of something like that.

Harry felt a little guilty – because, really, Niall never made fun of Harry, and he was always willing to help Harry with these things – and nodded, squirming a little on his mattress. “Alright,” he said, clearing his throat and preparing himself.

He looked at Niall steadily, letting his eyelids droop just a little and tilting his chin down so he was looking at Niall through his lashes. “Come here,” Harry said, low and slow. Niall’s eyes widened a tiny bit and he actually got up out of his chair and came to sit on the floor in front of Harry, looking up at him.

Harry drew a finger down Niall’s cheek –

\- And started laughing hysterically, throwing himself back onto the bed. He was flushed crimson and shaking his head in his laughter, and Niall joined in, swatting at Harry’s chest when he flopped down on the bed next to Harry.

It was good,” Niall said eventually, once they’d calmed down. “Just keep practicing; you’ll have Louis at your mercy by the time you get balls enough to do it.”

He yelped when Harry blushed and punched his shoulder. “See if I ever help _you_ again,” he grumbled, rubbing his arm. Harry sighed and Niall frowned. “So what’s goin’ on with this job thing?” he asked.

Harry shook his head a rueful smile across his lips. “I dunno,” he admitted. “He didn’t want to talk about it last night. Maybe he was just tired or something; who knows?”

Niall grimaced sympathetically and nodded. “Sorry, mate.”

Harry shrugged. “’S all good. I know Louis’ not, like…doing anything stupid. He’s smart. He has reasons for everything he does, really. I trust him.” Niall smiled in response, and Harry asked, “How are things with Zayn?”

Niall grinned wolfishly and sat up, pushing himself back against the wall as he folded his legs on Harry’s comforter. “Great,” he said emphatically. “Me mum caught us in my room, and we decided that was a good time to let him meet her – alright, mate?” Niall asked, as Harry had choked on his own saliva and lurched up, coughing.  
Niall thumped Harry’s back as Harry coughed, nodding and throwing up a thumbs-up so he wouldn’t worry. Niall passed Harry his cup of tea and Harry chugged it, coughing and spluttering a little, and Niall laughed, finally catching on to Harry’s shock.

Just then, Niall’s phone went off, and Niall swore gently. Harry looked back at him and saw he looked torn. “Zayn just got out of family night,” he hedged, and Harry smiled.

“Go on,” he rasped with a grin. “I have homework to do, anyway.”

Niall clapped Harry’s shoulder and thanked him before he heaved himself up off Harry’s bed and bolted out.

 ---

Louis came over again that night, but Harry got no chance to practice his new skill.

Nearly as soon as they got to Harry’s room, Louis grabbed Harry’s hand and pulled him down into the bed, turning and pulling on Harry’s arm so that Harry was plastered against Louis’ back. Harry’d been the big spoon before, and he didn’t mind it, so long as Louis twisted their legs and fingers together and nestled back against him.

Louis did just that, and it was quiet a moment before he took a breath and said, “I think – once my parents’ divorce is final, I think Mark is gonna stop giving us money. I have a lot of money in my bank account – money Mark’s deposited regularly for me, for college, that sort of thing, and once I get my first paycheck, I’m gonna open a new bank account with it, and then I’m gonna move all the money in the one Mark owns into the new one, so Mark can’t touch it. And then I’m gonna tell my mum to do the same thing – empty her bank account and get a new one. There’s – he’ll have to pay child support for the girls, regardless, and he makes a lot of money so it’ll at least be decent, but…still. We might have to downgrade a bit, and I just – want to make it as easy as I can for them.”

Louis seemed to be struggling getting the words out, and Harry pressed his lips against the back of Louis’ still-cold neck, ghosting over his necklace, for encouragement.

“I just figured that, whenever the girls need something, like lunch money, or new clothes, or something…I could take care of it, so my mum doesn’t have to worry about it. And I can pay at least some of my own college expenses. I mean, I know I’m not about to get a full ride off of football – I’m good, but not _that_ good – and I can always get financial aid…I just want to be able to help out.”

Harry pulled Louis tighter to him and pressed his face into Louis’ shoulder and nodded, knowing Louis would feel it.

“I – I didn’t tell you, because I thought you’d try and talk me out of it. Or, maybe not talk me out of it, but I thought you’d try telling me it’s not my job to take care of them,” Louis confessed.

Harry kissed Louis’ shoulder and said quietly, “No, I wouldn’t say that. I mean, it _isn’t_ , but I understand it. I’d’ve done the same for my mum, if I’d been old enough. I understand, Lou.”

Louis scooted back, moving so his narrower shoulders fit between Harry’s broader ones, and Harry leaned halfway on his back as he let go of Louis’ hand to give Louis a pillow. Louis ignored it, though, and turned around so he was facing Harry, resting his head on Harry’s shoulder.

Harry wrapped his arms around Louis’ waist and kissed his hair. “Night, Lou,” he whispered.

“Night, Harry.”

Right before Harry drifted off for good, Louis’ whisper reached him, said into the skin of his shoulder. “ _Thank you for understanding_.”

\---

The next day, Louis didn’t have work, so he and Harry went to Harry’s together after football practice.

“What do you want for your birthday?” Louis asked as he sat on the counter while Harry made dinner.

“Erm…” Harry stalled as he bustled around the kitchen, stirring pans and generally avoiding distraction so he didn’t burn himself. “Please don’t get me anything expensive,” he said, pausing his stirring and looking genuinely at Louis.

Louis scoffed jokingly, saying, “Why would I waste any money on _you_?” with a soft grin.

Harry hardened his face into stern lines. “I mean it,” he said, and it wasn’t very convincing, but, whatever.

Louis giggled at Harry’s face, so Harry rolled his eyes with a smile as he finished up.

Harry was just setting all the toppings up for tacos when his mum walked through the door.

“Hi, Mum,” Harry called out, kissing her cheek and slapping at her hands when she tried to get her own plate.

Louis, ever the partner in crime, slid off the counter and shepherded Anne to the table, coming back to help Harry bring the things from the kitchen and set them on the table, including a plate for Anne to use. Harry kissed Louis for his help before they sat at the table and had a nice meal with cheerful conversation – mostly Louis trying to get Harry to spill what he wanted for his birthday. Harry and Louis did the washing up on their insistence before heading upstairs as Anne sat down at the computer to pay bills.

Up in Harry’s room, Louis and Harry perched on his bed, knees touching as Louis sucked on Harry’s lips and Harry’s hand inched up Louis’ thigh with only a small amount of uncertainty.

Finally, Harry broke the kiss and squeezed Louis’ thigh. “I’m ready,” he said in a breathless whisper. Louis’ eyes widened and Harry added, “Now’s the perfect time; Mum’s distracted and won’t notice.”

Louis made an odd, choked-off sound and stood up, running a hand through his hair. “Harry, love, we – we haven’t even –“

Harry caught on quickly and he stood up, as well, blushing furiously as he said, “No, no, I – not _that_.”

Louis looked at Harry with eyes wide, and Harry laughed – only a little bit, though. “No, I – sorry, maybe I should’ve been, erm. A bit more…specific?” Louis covered his face with his hands and sat back down on the bed, and Harry came and sat next to him. “I, erm, meant I’m – ready to talk to Robin,” Harry corrected.

Louis drew in a slightly shaky breath and let it out, nodding as his cheeks dusted pink. Harry didn’t comment on it – just kissed Louis’ cheeks – because he knew Louis was probably embarrassed by the reaction he had, or something.

Not long after, Harry went back downstairs. “Mum?” he called out, and saw his mum’s face peek around the laptop.

“Yeah, love?” she asked, taking off her reading glasses with a smile.

Swallowing the guilt of lying to his mum, Harry asked, “Could I borrow your phone? I can’t find mine.”

Anne leaned over and snagged her phone from the coffee table in front of her and tossed it, and Harry caught it before hopping back upstairs.

Sat on his bed with Louis, Harry discussed things to say as he went through his mum’s contact list. Luckily, Anne was like Harry, and was really picky about her contact list – full first name, and the first letter of their surname – so Harry quickly found _Robin T_ and copied the number into his own phone, thankful she hadn’t deleted him, before he exited out and jogged downstairs, giving his mum her phone back.

“Thanks,” he said gratefully. “It was trapped in the duvet,” he added, and jogged back upstairs.

Sitting with their legs folded and knees touching, Harry swallowed nervously as he opened a new message and typed in Robin’s name. Louis spoke calmly as he slowly fed Harry words from the text they’d decided to send Robin before they met up.

_Robin, it’s Harry, Anne’s son. I need to talk to you – without my mum knowing. Can you meet me and Louis soon? I’ll explain everything – nicely – I swear. Please? – H &L_

Louis scooted backwards, away from Harry, and Harry fell forward and twisted his body simultaneously so he was on his side, and landed with his head in Louis’ lap. Louis started playing with Harry’s hair and murmuring little things – “ _so proud of you_ ”, “ _did so well_ ”, “ _such a good job_ ”, “ _you’re so strong, Hazza_ ” – and it wasn’t long before Harry’s phone vibrated.

They both froze, not having expected him to be quick to get back to them, and Harry sent a nervous look up to Louis. Louis bent double and kissed Harry passionately – if not a little awkwardly, as they were somewhat recreating their own version of the Spiderman kiss, and the angle was a bit funny – and then Louis whispered, “C’mon, love, let’s see it.”

Harry took a breath and opened it, suddenly feeling the fact that his mum’s future really probably could be potentially riding on how Robin responded – if, indeed, Robin was “the one” for his mum.

_One chance, alright mate? When and where?_


	18. Part 17.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Just letting you know there's some triggery junk in here again - nothing you haven't seen before, but it's the discussion of Harry's past again. As usual, no graphic detail of rape/molestation/incest at all, but it's there, so if it's a problem, duck down to the bottom and I'll give you the summary, alright? .xx

Louis smiled tightly as the bank teller – Jessica, apparently – smiled, handing back his license and started tapping away on the computer.

“And you wanted to start a checking account?” she asked amicably, tapping away as she glanced to Louis.

“And a savings, please,” Louis corrected, glancing around the nearly deserted bank and tapping his card against the granite counter. Jessica nodded and continued tapping, asking his social security number and his address and phone number, date of birth and things like that. She gave him a slip of paper with the bank’s website on it and circled where he’d need to go to follow-up with his account if he wanted to do any online banking, setting up a username and password. Jessica handed Louis a few more slips of paper and told him he’d receive a card in the mail in three to five business days and would have to call or come back in to activate it, and then asked if he had any money he’d like to deposit.

Louis smiled, feeling almost a little nervous. He grabbed his wallet and took out the slip of paper with the number of the bank account he’d set up for his dad to deposit into and slid it across the counter slowly. “I want all the money in _this_ account,” he said, tapping the slip of paper lightly, “taken out and deposited into my new one, if you could.”

Jessica nodded, already tapping away, and when she hit _enter_ , her eyes widened. “ _Sir_ ,” she breathed, “I can’t transfer that amount of money at once, not without private investigation going on.”

Louis’ eyes flicked in irritation. “But you know this is my account,” he said. “I have the card from that account, I can give you all the information you need to ensure I’m the owner of that account.”

Jessica shook her head, though. “I realize that, sir, but I really can’t transfer this amount of money all at once.”

Louis sighed, running fingers through his hair as he checked his watch; he’d be late for work if he didn’t leave soon. “Well, how quickly can you transfer? You can do increments, right?” Jessica nodded, biting her lip. “How fast can you have all that money into this one? Into my savings? You can split it – half into my new savings; half into my new checking. Will that make it quicker?”

Jessica nodded, seeming like she was happy Louis’d given her a question she could help with. “If we transfer everything straight into one account,” she said, tapping away on her computer, “it could take up to five business days. If we split half, it should all be finished by Wednesday – Thursday morning, at the very latest.”

Louis swept his hand down over his face and looked skyward, praying for patience and reminding himself that it wasn’t Jessica’s fault. “Why does it take so long?” he asked.

“It’s a security assurance,” Jessica said. “We can deposit about ten percent of the money from one account into another – which, if it’s split into two, will be twenty percent of the money in your original account – initially, and then over increments of time, we deposit the rest. Basically, it was meant to assure that nobody’s stealing money, or anything of that matter.”

Louis nodded wearily, pulling out the check he’d received from work. “And if I try to deposit this now, is it going to make the transfer even longer?”

“No, sir,” Jessica smiled, taking the slip when Louis handed it over and glancing at the amount. “Right, this can be deposited instantly. Would you like me to deposit it now?”

Louis nodded. “Checking, please,” he added, and Jessica nodded, tapping a few more keys. She put the check into a machine and Louis watched, childishly interested, as the machine whirred and the check slid back and forth a few times and made a few clunking sounds before Jessica took it out again and Louis saw it’d been hole-punched. Jessica handed it back to Louis, and within five minutes, Louis was walking out of the small bank and into his car.

 ---

Since Louis was working later than Harry (but thankfully not until close, like most nights), Louis convinced Stan to pick Harry up from the bakery and bring him over to the shop, so that Harry could meet Paul and Andy, the two massively burly mechanics who’d hired Louis out of the goodness of their hearts. They quickly found out Louis had no idea what tools were called and probably couldn’t distinguish and intake hose from a garden hose, but they kept him on because he was funny and a bit sassy, and he knew how to sweep and organize (kind of) and would do whatever they asked him to do, including read a tool guide to learn basic names so he could fetch them tools while they were busy working and taking calls and updating books and ordering in food and going across the street for drinks for them.

Andy and Paul loved Harry, and Louis was thankful they seemed to know their sizes were a bit off-putting because they kept a respectable distance from Harry after shaking his hand nicely. They let Harry sit on the spinny chairs (which they never actually let Louis do, but, whatever. It’s not like Louis took notice, or anything) and chatter on, and they only made kissy noises the first few times Harry and Louis held hands or sent silly smiles across the office.

After work, Louis washed his hands (because, yes, they _did_ get greasy, thank you very much) and waved goodbye to Andy and Paul and dragged Harry out of the shop, sneaking little flutter-kisses on his cheeks and hand because Louis knew he was nervous.

They would meet Robin in an hour.

They stopped at the ice cream shop on the way, getting a chocolate shake for Louis and a twist for Harry. As Louis drove, he noticed Harry getting more fidgety by the second, and as he flipped his blinker on, he said mildly, “We can reschedule, you know.”

Harry shook his head, though, looking determined. “No, that’d be rude,” he reasoned. “And we’re trying to convince him I’m not evil, and that he _should_ date my mum, right? So we should – we should go.” He hesitated a few seconds and then nodded once, sure and strong, and Louis didn’t protest after that. Harry’d made up his mind.

They drove in silence, holding hands over the gearshift, and Louis rubbed his thumb in circles over Harry’s hand. Harry sucked his milkshake down, and once he was done, Louis wordlessly handed his over to him, knowing he just needed something to do on the drive.

When they were about twenty minutes away, Harry finally spoke up. “D’you – d’you think it’s gonna work?” he asked.

Louis thought about it – honestly thought about it, because that’s what Harry wanted – before he answered carefully. “I think that…if we’re careful with how we say things, and if we stay calm,” he flicked a glance over at Harry, who looked momentarily embarrassed, “and if we’re respectful but honest, I think it can be okay. It also depends on what’s going on between him and your mum, though, too,” Louis added, wanting to create the balance between “there’s reason to hope” and “don’t get your hopes up too much”.

But Harry nodded, obviously having thought of this before. “I don’t think he would really be mean to my mum, though,” he said seriously, looking out the window in thought. “I think – I think that when he broke up with her, it was probably because she hadn’t warned him her son was mental, or something,” he said, grimacing embarrassedly over at Louis, who squeezed his hand sympathetically. “But he seemed like – I mean, other than when he was…y’know,” he broke off, releasing Louis’ hand to gesture what Louis could only decipher as ‘on top of my mum’, before he continued, “other than…that time…I think that he’s been nice to her. Mum – seemed to really like how he treated her, so…he was probably really, like, nice about it, or something. So we have to, like…make him take her back, is all.”

Louis looked over at his boyfriend warily. It might not be that simple. “Harry,” he began, taking his hand in his over the gearshift once again, “it might – you need to prepare yourself, because what if he doesn’t take her back? We might not be able to fix it. You realize that, right? That we might not make him take her back?”

Harry bit his lip, but nodded, and Louis honestly wasn’t sure what that meant, so he pulled Harry’s hand and kissed the top of it as he turned into the quiet restaurant. They sat quietly for a moment once Louis parked, gathering their thoughts and steeling themselves. Harry’s breath was a little shuddery when he quietly said, “Lou?”

Louis looked over at his boyfriend with a soothing smile at the ready, only for it to be wiped off when Harry’s lips caught his own, kissing him with a little frantic need and a lot of fear. Louis’ hands trapped Harry’s cheeks, fingernails scratching slightly right on Harry’s hairline, thumbs ghosting over his ears as he kissed Harry back, tracing the inside of Harry’s teeth before pulling away into a slightly neater kiss. “Hey,” Louis whispered once the kiss died out slowly, “I _love_ you, and I’m here. You’re safe, and I love you, and you’re perfect, and we’re going to go and talk to Robin and do our best to fix it, and you’re going to do so well and you’re going to be so good, right? You’re gonna be good, aren’t you?”

Harry’s breathing kicked up again, just a little, and he nodded. Louis kissed his lips one more time before he pulled at Harry’s shoulders, bringing his boyfriend in for a tight hug. Harry buried his nose in Louis’ shoulder, breathing deeply to calm himself down again. Louis pulled away and smiled, relieved when he got a smile back from Harry’s lips.

They hopped out of Louis’ car and held hands as they walked in, glancing around and sneaking looks at each other as they noticed how quiet the place was and how intimate it all looked. The restaurant itself was pretty dark, low-hanging lamps lighting up each table enough to see clearly but dimly enough to make it romantic, if that’s what you wanted. Everything was red and black, the tables a reddish granite Louis didn’t know if he liked or hated.

“Twist?” Louis said, rubbing circles on Harry’s hand again as the seating hostess glanced through her list.

“Right, he’s this way,” she said, smiling and picking up two menus as she walked briskly down through rows of tables, turning twice and glancing back to make sure they were following. They were, albeit a bit slower, because Harry seemed to be feeling the return of his nerves, but Louis tugged him along softly and kissed his temple soothingly, letting Harry lean into his lips at the touch.

“You’ll be fine,” Louis whispered quickly before Robin came into view. He stood up when Louis and Harry approached him, and held his hand out to shake.

Louis shook his hand and suppressed his proud smile when Harry shook his hand and smiled shyly, sitting down next to Louis across from Robin.

“I didn’t order anything yet,” Robin said, glancing down at his menu. “I just got here a few minutes ago, myself.”

Louis nodded and smiled over at the man, who curved his lips in response. As Louis looked over the menu, he rubbed Harry’s knee. _I’m here for you_ , he tried to say with the touch. “I’ve never been here before,” Louis started lightly, “but that picture of the chicken marsala looks amazing, so I think I’ll get that.” Louis glanced over to Harry, smiling as he said, “What are you thinkin’, pumpkin?”

Harry blushed and smiled so big his eyes nearly disappeared in the crinkles at the nickname as he leaned and playfully shoulder-bumped Louis. “Erm, I was thinking – maybe the chicken fettuccine primavera? That – that sounds good.”

“It’s my favorite, actually,” Robin said, making Harry flinch a bit in surprise – he’d clearly forgotten he was there, since Robin had been so quiet – and look down at his menu again, nodding politely.

Louis looked at Robin and saw that he’d noticed Harry’s flinch, and Robin looked at Louis with questions in his eyes. Louis nodded significantly, trying to assure Robin that he’d have his answers by the end of the night.

The waitress came around and the three placed their orders, and Robin smoothly asked for minimum interference with the waitress. She smiled, confused but perfectly fine with Robin making her work less, and exited with a pen tucked behind her ear.

Robin looked at Louis, who looked at Harry, who was busy watching Robin. Louis squeezed Harry’s knee again, and Harry cleared his throat.

“I’m – I’m sorry, Robin,” Harry said, choking on the apology like it tasted bitter. “I was – really mean to you, and you – erm, you didn’t know why, and I – it’s not an excuse, but…but I thought you knew? And you – I –” Harry sighed in frustration when he couldn’t remember the words Louis had helped him form.

Louis rubbed Harry’s thigh and patted it, causing Harry to break his eye contact with Robin to look over at Louis. “Remember, you were gonna tell him about…?” Louis prompted quietly enough that Robin wouldn’t be able to hear. Harry looked grateful and nodded, relieved to have a goal in his mind again.

He bit his lip and looked at Robin for a moment, studying the man who watched him calmly. When Harry found whatever he was obviously looking for, Harry said, “You – did my mum tell you about me? I mean, what happened to me? When I was little?”

Robin looked confused for a moment and shook his head. “No,” he said, frowning, and Harry nodded.

“I – my mum and dad didn’t really like each other much? And, they – they stayed together for me.” Robin nodded, clearly already knowing this much, and Harry continued only to be interrupted by the waitress bringing their drinks out. Harry took a giant gulp of his coke and coughed nervously. “Mum…Mum worked, you probably know, and D- and my dad would stay home. With me, I mean, he – he watched me, and stuff.” Robin nodded again, still clearly confused, and took a drink. Louis lifted his hand from Harry’s leg to slide his fingers between Harry’s on the table, because he noticed Harry’s pale fingers were shaking a little.

“I – whenever my parents would get in fights, Mum would go to my gran’s house – her mum’s – to cool off, and I’d…stay with my dad. There was…” Harry took a deep breath, and Louis squeezed Harry’s hand tighter. It was one thing for Harry to tell Liam and Niall, because they were around – they at least _knew_ Harry then – and it was one thing for him to tell Louis, because Harry loved Louis and trusted him. But telling Robin – a virtual stranger, and a large man, at that – that Harry had, at one time, been a sexual abuse victim by his own father…that was different, and Louis could understand that.

“There was – one time, when my parents got in a fight, and – and Mum went to Gran’s, and I stayed in my room because I was – my dad told me to go play upstairs. And I came down stairs because I – I heard these – these _noises_ , and _yelling_. And I went downstairs and I saw my – my dad had – called a girl over? And he was – he was –” Harry ran his fingers through his hair shakily, knees bouncing under the table from nerves.

“You alright, love?” Louis murmured, leaning close as Robin watched on patiently.

“Yeah,” Harry said jerkily, laughing at himself humorlessly. “I – it was easier, telling you, a bit.”

Louis nodded and kissed his cheek. “You don’t have to –”

“I do,” Harry interrupted, and Louis swallowed, uncomfortable with Harry’s obvious nerves, but nodded, kissing his cheek once more before leaning back. He caught Robin’s eye while Harry was still collecting himself and gave a discrete nod of thanks, for his patience. Robin nodded nearly imperceptibly, and Harry took another deep breath and a mouthful of coke. “My dad was raping her,” he blurted out, and Robin’s eyes widened in surprise. “He – Mum was gone for the weekend and he – did that, and I saw it. And then she left – the…the girl, she left, and my dad saw that I had – seen most of it. And he said he told me he was playing and he was sorry for scaring me, and not to tell Mum or they’d fight more, and I hated it so much – the fighting – and I said yes, and promised to – to not. Say anything, I mean.” Robin nodded, eyes closed. Louis wondered if Robin was fighting the image - Harry as a young child, naïve and terrified, nodding his head along with whatever his father told him – the way Louis had had to when Harry told him.

“So, erm, Mum came back, and they were good, and then they fought and Mum left again, and my dad – he started – he – I didn’t – I didn’t want it and he –” Harry started curling in on himself, kind of cowering away from Robin like he expected Robin to start scolding him, and it hit Louis that Robin was an actual adult, was probably an actual father with kids of his own whom he had probably scolded and punished before, and Harry was a child who’d lost his father after a catastrophic last encounter with him.

That’s why it was different, telling Robin.

“Harry, shhh, baby, it’s okay, sweetheart, come here,” Louis cooed out anything that came to mind as he pulled Harry closer when the boy started tearing up slightly. Harry fisted at his eyes, rubbing them and making them angry and pink around the rims, and the waitress came with their food.

She set down the plates, chattering at them cheerfully, faltering when she took in the scene. “Everything alright?” she asked slowly, setting Louis’ plate down in front of him.

Harry looked embarrassed as he sat up straight, starting to push Louis away, and Robin said, “Fine, thank you,” tersely enough that she nodded meekly and left without another word.

Harry took a few shuddering breaths, as Robin watched him, looking for all the world like his heart was shattered into pieces as he watched the curly-headed boy in front of him being tended to by his boyfriend. Louis wondered, a random and flyaway thought, what Robin thought of he and Harry together. Harry sniffled and the thought was gone, thumbing underneath Harry’s eyes to take away the tears that had accumulated there.

“He – my dad knocked me out, and Mum…came home. Gran’d convinced her to come home, work things out with him once and for all, and she – she saw him…with me…And she – she hit him to make him…to make him stop, and called the police.” Robin’s eyes stayed closed and he shook his head slowly, lowering it to face the ground as his jaw flexed. He looked up, noticed Harry was watching him like he was embarrassed, and he opened his mouth to speak, but Louis shook his head. If Harry stopped now, he wouldn’t finish, and Harry made Louis promise he’d make sure Harry got everything important out.

Louis scooped up his chicken, still holding Harry’s hand with his other hand, and started slowly eating, eyeing Harry mainly, but flickering a glance to Robin every once in a while as well, to check his reaction as Harry spoke.

“We moved – Mum got a different job and we moved to the house we live in now, and Mum divorced my dad, obviously – and she never…as far as I know, she never – never dated anyone. There’s never – never, erm, been a man in that house. Except for me and my two best mates and Louis, not even any other male has ever – except for, like, the refrigerator guy, and that, but – men haven’t…I haven’t had to deal with men in my house, not since – I mean, not since my dad…y’know. And I – I hadn’t seen a…a guy and a girl – I mean –” Harry blushed, looking up at Robin briefly before his blush deepened and he looked at his dinner plate. “I never saw a – a man, on top of – of a woman, I – since my dad and that – that girl. And I – I dunno, I – I guess I connected – _that_ – with you, or – or something? And…” Harry bit his lip before he looked up at Robin imploringly.

“I’m really sorry, Robin, I – I don’t think that about you. That you’d – I mean, I just – the last man in my house r- he…he…y’know – and you’re – you’re, like – you’re bigger than us,” Harry gestured to he and Louis, “and I know Louis’d _never_ stand by and let me get hurt, but I – you’re just – bigger. And you were _there_ , in my _house_ , and I didn’t know you and you – I had to – I just freaked out, like a lot, and I know it’s – I know it was wrong, but I just – I just –” Harry was breathing heavily now, almost frantic as he watched Robin listen calmly to his words, desperate for Robin to understand.

“Harry, stop talking,” Robin said, kindly. Harry hushed immediately, sitting back and closer to Louis, who narrowed his eyes at Robin. Robin looked at both of them carefully before he sighed. “Harry, I’m sorry to hear what happened to you. And to your mum. She never told me that. When I asked about your father, she said he was a heartless and disgusting bastard and she hoped he would rot in Hell. The look on her face…she looked terrified and so, so sad at the same time – I assumed he hit her, and she escaped with you, and she clearly didn’t want to chat about it, so I never asked again. I didn’t need to know about your father to know I was mad about her.” He wiped at his mouth with his napkin and said, “I forgive you, Harry. Not because what happened to you, but because you sought me out to apologize, and because everything – it makes sense now. The things you said. The way you acted. I’m just going to clear my name now: what I said at your house, about not being interested in boys, or younger people, for that matter, was completely true. I don’t have a problem with this,” he said, gesturing to Louis and Harry, with a small smile. “I think you are very well-suited for each other, actually – but I’ve never been interested in blokes. It’s all women for me, and unfortunately for me, it’s also only Anne for me.”

Harry and Louis shared a look. “So you and Anne aren’t dating anymore,” Louis said, phrasing it more like a statement than a question.

Robin sighed a little sadly and shook his head. “No, we’re no longer together,” he said. “I wish things were different, but…”

“But they are different,” Harry said urgently. “I – please get back with my mum, Robin. She’s been so sad, and I think she – I dunno if it’s love, because I’ve never seen her in love, but she – it’s something, and she deserves whatever it is. You know she deserves it,” he added fiercely.

Robin’s eyebrows furrowed. “Of course she deserves everything,” he said, surprised. “Including a boyfriend who doesn’t scare the shit out of her son. I’m assuming that’s why she ended things,” he added thoughtfully. “I don’t think I did anything she wouldn’t have liked otherwise.”

Harry and Louis looked at each other, shocked. “ _Mum_ ended things?” Harry demanded. “You didn’t finish with her after I went mental on you at dinner? You weren’t – you weren’t mad at her for not warning you about me?”

Robin chuckled in bafflement. “Harry, not to make you upset, but it was very obvious there was something deep going on with you at that dinner,” he said. “I knew it wasn’t just because you didn’t want your mum dating; it was obvious something more serious was going on, and as I wasn’t a member of the family, it wasn’t my place to know, or to be upset that I _didn’t_ know. You aren’t my son; you’re Anne’s, and I have no say in what she tells me about you. If anything, the only reason to end things with her would be because you needed more time to deal with things on your own pace.” Harry bent his head in shame, and Louis rubbed his back while Robin said, “Harry – that’s nothing to be upset about, lad. You went through something nasty, and it’s going to take time to get over it.”

“But I just – I _was_ over it,” Harry insisted, picking his head up and watching his fingers move as he picked at his fingernails. Louis murmured at him to eat, and he cut a bit of chicken up with his fork as he said, “I went through therapy, I dealt with all the man-fearing and shame and doubt and – and all of it, and it was hard, and I was over it. I was _fine_.”

“And then suddenly there was a massive man on top of your mum in the middle of your living room,” Robin continued for him, and Harry nodded, biting his lip. “I’m guessing when you were dealing with everything, you were matched with a female therapist?” Harry nodded as Louis watched on. “And your classes – all female teachers?” Harry nodded again, o which Robin nodded in confirmation. “So I’m really the first man you’ve had contact with since…everything happened,” he said, watching as Harry nodded once more. He leaned forward a bit, and Harry tensed but didn’t let himself back away. “That’s alright, Harry. I’m not offended.”

Harry looked down at his fingers again, fiddling with them. “I just think…I want you to get back with Mum, but I think…you would have to – to be really, like – patient, with me? And it’d be…there’d be lots of, like – rules, or – boundaries, whatever – and I – can’t promise I won’t…freak out, like that again. Because I – it’s, like – even _this_ ,” he emphasized, hands floating around their table, “sitting with you – it’s…it’s weird. And I – I haven’t stopped fidgeting since we sat down.”

Robin smiled sadly. “Harry, if your mum and I were still together, and we had this very conversation, I’d be more than happy and willing to accept boundaries and play by your rules. I understand it. Compromise is something that’s important, and I would respect what you needed. …But your mum and I aren’t together.”

Harry chewed his lip. “If – if I talk to my mum,” he began slowly, Louis watching as the cogs turned in his head, “can you – would you still, like…be nice? To me, and her and Louis, I mean?” Robin answered in the affirmative, and Harry smiled. It was shaky, and a little nervous, but it was a smile nonetheless, and it made Louis smile, and look at Robin. Robin caught Louis’ eyes and smiled.

 ---

“God, that was – that went so well,” Harry sighed into Louis’ neck, rubbing his hands over Louis’ chest over his shirt. He kissed at Louis’ neck, and Louis sighed happily at the feeling and rubbed his hands over the contours of Harry’s back, getting irritated when the fabric bunched up underneath his hands and he couldn’t feel Harry’s back through the shirt.

Harry shifted and moved his face, almost upsetting Louis’ balance on his bed in his room – Louis’ house was closer to the restaurant than Harry’s, and Harry was insisting he wanted to go back to Louis’ house again, because “we _always_ stay at mine, and your bed is so much _softer_ ” – and Louis made a surprised and appreciative sound when Harry’s lips found his, slotting in and sliding together effortlessly. Louis loved the way Harry kissed him – excited and eager, always, but with an innocence that somehow made every kiss as exciting to Louis as if it were a dead _filthy_ kiss, nothing but sex and sex and more sex in it – and Louis kissed back slowly, knowing how easily Harry got carried away.

Louis eased back, smiling at the whine that came from Harry at the loss of the kiss, but he stayed away, because it was a school night and they needed to get to sleep, and Louis knew Harry would probably want to talk more about the dinner and their plan to get Anne and Ro…bin…bac…

Louis swallowed and lost his train of thought as he registered the look Harry was giving him, scooting backwards on Louis’ mattress, leaning against the pillows and spreading his legs as far as his jeans would allow. Harry ran a finger down the cut of his shirt’s neckline, biting his lip and causing Louis to be torn between watching the lip and watching the finger drifting down….

Louis whined quietly.

“Bet you wanna kiss me,” Harry said slowly, looking at Louis in a mix of sex-appeal and uncertainty.

Louis begged to any and every god and goddess who existed (and even the ones who didn’t) that Harry wasn’t doing what Louis thought he was doing. “Always wanna kiss you,” Louis replied truthfully, and Harry flushed, pleased.

“Come here, then,” Harry said, his arms slowly reaching out towards Louis, who swallowed before he moved. Louis situated himself between Harry’s open legs, on his hands and knees so their bodies weren’t touching, and Louis could control himself a little (a little) bit more.

Harry slid his hands over Louis’ shoulders and down his back, where he could reach, before they slid back upwards and curved around the back of his head and pulled him down slowly into another kiss. Louis dug his fingers into the blanket on the bed as Harry continued kissing him relentlessly; had Harry always traced the little lines on the roof of Louis’ mouth with his tongue like that?

Harry broke away, panting, but twisted his fingers in the back of Louis’ shirt to prevent him from moving. “I w-want you, so bad,” he whispered, craning his neck for another kiss. The sound and words went straight to Louis’ dick, and he tried not to groan as he kissed Harry as chastely as possible, which was not very chaste at all. “Sometimes it – drives me crazy,” Harry added, confessing, and Louis felt Harry’s hips moving in search for friction. Yep, Harry was definitely doing what Louis thought he was.

“Lou,” Harry whined, pulling at Louis’ lip with his teeth, and Louis did groan this time. “Sometimes I – I touch m-my penis, and I – I think about you doing it instead, instead of me.”

Louis was panting slightly now, eyes shut hard as he kissed at Harry’s neck, resting his head there and praying for control.

“And we – when we kiss, like that, sometimes I just – it’s like fire, Louis, like I’m on fire and it’s so good, god, Louis, it’s so – it’s so good.” Harry said out, and Louis bit slightly onto the skin of Harry’s collarbone, groaning when Harry gasped so sweetly and his hips bucked up, almost hitting his own.

“Louis – Lou, I’m so – Lou, you make my – you make my penis so hard, I – I want you so bad when you – when I – when my penis – it – it leaks when I think about you, and –”

“Oh, god, Harry, please, stop talking,” Louis said, flinging himself off his boyfriend and laying on his back, panting and pressing down on his rock-hard erection.

Harry had gasped when Louis had suddenly disappeared from him, and now he was panting but otherwise silence, and Louis’ eyes squeezed shut when he registered what that sound meant.

“Did – did I do it wrong?” Harry asked, sounding mostly embarrassed, but also a little broken.

Louis was still panting slightly and he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, the pressure making bursts of blue and yellow erupt behind his eyelids. “No, Harry,” he said, voice sounding as strangled as his dick felt. He looked over at Harry, eyes adjusting after those bursts of color and painting Harry weird hues of green and white.

Louis suddenly rolled onto his side, back towards Harry, who was watching him with a quivering lip. He gripped Harry’s hip and pulled him forward, feeling how Harry was still mostly hard and himself half-hard. Louis nipped Harry’s jutted-out bottom lip between his own and sucked on it gently, tongue flicking against it and making Harry gasp a little. “I loved it, god, I loved it,” Louis confessed into his mouth. “What did you want, baby?” Louis asked finally, knowing if Harry was now attempting dirty-talk with him, he wanted more. “What is it, what do you need me to do for you?”

Harry bit his lip – _honestly_ , Louis thought sternly at his dick when it twitched as a result – and whispered, “I – I want you, like…” he patted his tummy, saying, “ _on_ me. On top of me, and I – can I – can I maybe…can I maybe touch you?”

Louis groaned, resting his forehead against Harry’s, and nodded, picking himself up and maneuvering himself over Harry’s leg, resting his weight carefully on top of Harry’s as he kissed chastely at his lips. Harry’s fingers were tapping in a weird, rhythm-less manner against Louis’ shirt, like they didn’t know where to go. Louis backed up a little bit, shushing Harry when he whined, and stood tall on his knees, bringing Harry’s hands to the hemline of his shirt. Louis looked at Harry, questioning, and raised his arms straight up when Harry nodded, sucking his lip into his mouth.

Harry sat up and pushed the shirt over Louis’ stomach and chest, reaching to get it past Louis’ elbows before Louis sank back down and made it easier on him. Harry stared at Louis’ body with his lip sucked into his mouth, fingers poised, ready to touch, but hesitating like he wasn’t sure where he wanted his first touch to be. Louis gripped Harry’s jaw softly and brought him into a soft and sweet, encouraging kiss, and Louis felt Harry’s hands on his shoulder blades, pressing at the dips as his muscles moved.

Harry leaned backwards again, and this time Louis followed, and Harry gripped at Louis’ back so sweetly, fingers pressing hard indents into his skin, and Louis showered Harry in kisses as he felt Harry’s hands and fingers exploring the plane of his back, stopping right at the waistline of his boxers and at his hairline at the back of his neck.

Louis paused when he felt Harry starting to rub up against him, unsure what to do. “Harry,” he panted, kissing at his boyfriend’s cheek instead of his mouth. “Harry, you’re gonna come if you keep –”

But Harry’s hips pressed against his again, and Harry gasped, fingers digging into Louis’ back to the point that it actually hurt, and Louis pressed down on his groin with his own, moving in small motions to ease Harry through his aftershocks as he kissed Harry’s throat with wet open-mouthed kisses.

“ _Louis_ ,” Harry whined in a broken voice, and the combination of everything had Louis gasping as he fought to keep from coming, lifting his hips up and off of Harry’s.

Harry didn’t fight Louis when Louis moved off from on top of him this time, and he smiled sleepily when Louis kissed him and told him he needed to change, nodding along with whatever Louis said. Louis picked out some boxers and shorts to wear to bed, pulling Harry up off his mattress and guiding him to the bathroom. “Did you – do you want me to clean you up, or did you want to do that yourself?” Louis asked awkwardly. Personally, he wanted to clean Harry, but he knew that this wasn’t exactly like actual sex – he hadn’t seen all of Harry, hadn’t touched Harry yet.

Harry blushed, despite his pliant and pleased state, and he shook his head, taking the rag gratefully. “I’ll – erm, I’ll…do it.” Louis hesitated, but nodded, and Harry bit his lip. “Thank you,” he said quietly, looking at Louis like he held the entire fucking world.

Louis crossed the bathroom and kissed Harry softly but passionately. “I really love you,” he said afterwards, and smiled when Harry bit his lip to keep from smiling, and ended up smiling, anyway.

“I love you, too,” he said quietly, and Louis kissed his forehead before turning and walked out of the bathroom, clicking the door shut quietly.

By the time Harry joined Louis in bed, Louis’ erection had gone down, thankfully, and Harry snuggled up to Louis tightly, sighing happily when Louis’ arms wrapped tight around his waist, whispering, “My sweet baby, Harry.”

Harry kissed Louis’ neck and scooted impossibly closer to Louis, and whispered back, “Yours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Allllright! So a few hours before Harry and Louis meet Robin, Louis opens up a savings and checking account at a small little bank to protect his money from his dad. He works later than Harry that night, so Louis convinces Stan to drop Harry off at his work, the mechanic shop, and Harry gets to meet Paul and Andy (the body guard Andy; not Liam's friend Andy, so you don't get confused), and they're very nice to him and Harry loves the shop and all the cool tools and things to play with (and Andy and Paul are _totally_ more indulgent with Harry than they are on Louis, but whatever). Harry and Louis go to a nice restaurant and tell Robin all about Harry's past and why Harry acted the way he did, trying to get Robin to understand that Harry doesn't hate him and thinks he should get back with Anne because Anne was much happier when she was with him. He's very kind and understanding and accepts Harry's apology and helps Harry understand that Harry may have been over what happened, but he hadn't really had any close interaction with another man since his father, and that _that_ was why he freaked out. He also tells the boys it was Anne who broke up with him, though he'd get back with her in a heartbeat. They boys are shocked and Harry and Robin make an agreement - if Harry can convince Anne to take Robin back, Robin will play by all the rules Harry puts in place, because regardless of Harry's acceptance, it's going to take a lot for him to be okay with having a massive man in his house again without freaking out all the time. When Harry and Louis reach Louis' house for the night, Harry attempts (poor duck, he's awful at it) dirty talk to convince Louis to get on top of him when they kiss and to let Harry touch him. Despite being so damned awful at the dirty talk, Louis is extremely turned on and gives into it, and allows Harry to take off his shirt and touch his bare skin, and he also gives in and climbs on top of Harry during their makeout session. Harry comes in his pants, rubbing against him, and Louis just barely refrains from doing the same, and Louis gets Harry clean clothes and takes him to the bathroom and offers hesitantly to wipe him down. Harry blushes and decides to clean himself off, and Louis goes back to his room to try and kill his boner. He manages, and Harry climbs back into bed and they snuggle closely and fall asleep whispering sweet words to each other. .xx


	19. Part 18.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya! So in this chapter not much happened, but there's a bit of what possibly COULD be considered non-con/dub-con - I don't know what to label it, because it's not _protested against_ , it's more like the other party was asleep but once aware was more than okay with it - but if either of those are triggery, go to the bottom and I'll give you a nice little summary.

Harry lay in his mum’s bed with the telly on, waiting for commercial. He glanced over at his mum, who was staring at the screen listlessly, and he could tell she wasn’t paying attention at all.

Harry shifted and grabbed for the remote, turning the useless talk show off and plunging the room into darkness.

“Harry?” Anne asked, only mildly curious.

Harry patted around until he found his mum’s hand and took it, squeezing it. He moved slowly, knowing that, while they were close, they didn’t typically snuggle, scooting up against her to rest his head on her shoulder. She hugged him back tentatively, and Harry smiled when he felt her cheeks scrunch up, like she was smiling.

“I miss when you were happy,” Harry said quietly.

Anne sighed and rubbed a hand up and down Harry’s arm. “Baby, I _am_ hap-”

“You’re not happy, Mum,” Harry interrupted. “You’re not – you’re not dressing up anymore, or painting your nails all these girly colors and worrying about if that shade is ‘too young’ or ‘too old’; you’re not humming weird songs or smiling randomly like an idiot as you peel potatoes. You – you’re not _happy_ , and I wish you would be.”

Anne swallowed a few times into the silence afterward, and Harry scooted a little closer to her.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Anne whispered. Harry nodded. “I miss Robin,” she confessed.

Harry frowned. “I know, Mum,” he murmured. They lay together quietly until Harry asked, “Hey, Mum?”

“Hmm?”

“Why didn’t you…tell Robin? About me, I mean.”

Anne pulled away from Harry slightly, curving to peer at him, despite the darkness. “Why _would_ I have told Robin?” She asked. “He hadn’t earned your trust. You decide who knows, Harry; not me. The only people who know what happened besides the two of us are whoever you’ve told and Gran.”

Harry hadn’t realized that. Of course, he knew his mum didn’t go running around and blabbing her mouth off to anyone that her ex-husband had molested her son and was now in jail, obviously, but… “You – you never told anyone?” he asked incredulously, feeling almost a little sad when Anne shook her head. “Oh, _Mum_ ,” he said sadly, hugging her tight. “You’ve carried that awful secret around all this time, and you never told anyone.”

Anne let Harry squeeze her, and Harry nuzzled a little at her cheek and pulled away when he felt tears. “Mum,” he said again, suddenly moving to sit up, pulling Anne with him. He pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her, feeling the buzz in his skin from the new contact with someone. “Mummy,” he said, hearing the pleading tone in his voice. “Mummy, you need to see Robin.”

Anne looked up at Harry, shock clear on her face, and, well, alright – maybe that wasn’t how Harry had planned on saying it, but it certainly got her attention.  
“What?” she asked incredulously. “Harry, you-”

“Just hear me out?” Harry pleaded, and she sighed before twisting to turn the light on, making Harry squint for a minute. She pulled away from him and crossed her legs underneath her, waiting with an expectantly bewildered expression. "Alright,” Harry said, rifling through his brain to remember what he and Louis had come up with saying to his mum. “Alright,” he started again, licking his lips. “Alright, so, like, basically, I’ve – I went to dinner with…with Robin? Erm, with Louis there, too, of course, and – Mum, I – he kind of looks, like, awful, really, and I – I can’t help but think, like…” Harry took a deep breath; his thoughts were getting away from him again. “Robin’s not a – like, he’s not a bad guy. I mean, I don’t think I – I don’t think I would – I don’t want him to move in, or anything, but – I, like…At dinner, I told him – about me, I mean, like…what happened? – and he – he was really nice. And he – he kind of – helped me understand, a bit, of like…why I acted so…y’know…and he was just…he’s a nice guy, Mum, and he really cares about you.”

Harry chanced a look over at his mum, apprehensive to see her expression. It was a bit stony, and Harry wasn’t sure what to do with it. “…Mum?”

Anne’s eyes finally flickered to life, staring over her son carefully. “Robin agreed to meeting with you without my permission?” she asked flatly.

Harry bit his lip, wondering if he’d just done more damage, and scrambled for an answer. “Mum, I practically begged him to meet me,” he said, leaning towards her. “He – I wanted to talk to him, and apologize. I was – I was trying to do the right thing, Mum. I – you didn’t say anything about it, and neither did Louis, but I – I know you guys were disappointed in me,” he said, hanging his head. “I just – I wanted to make it right.”

Anne sighed after a brief spell of eyeing her son’s hung head. “Harry,” she said softly, “I didn’t say anything about being disappointed in you because I wasn’t disappointed _in you_. I was…it was more that I was disappointed it didn’t work out. I’m not trying to make you feel guilty about it, but I had – I really hoped it would be okay. But I understand,” she hastened when Harry’s long finger dabbed at his eye. “I understand it. I just… _hoped_.”

Harry nodded and looked up. “I – I’m really sorry,” he said quietly. “I – I don’t _like_ Robin – I don’t know him – but I don’t hate him, either. He – like I said, he was really nice to me and Lou at dinner, and he was – he was really respectful and didn’t push anything on me, and he didn’t even pity me, either. It was – it was nice, and I – I think you should go back to him.”

Anne sighed. “Harry, I finished with him,” she confessed.

But Harry nodded. “No, I know, he – he told me. But he wants you back, and he said that if – I asked him if he’d go back to you if you said it was okay, and he said yes, and I – I asked him that, if you did take him back, if he’d – if he would, like, be really careful, I guess? Like, around me, and not do anything to push me or – or make me nervous, like if I told him things I can’t – can’t handle? And – and not do them, and he said he would, because he – he doesn’t want to make me uncomfortable in my own house. Mum, I – I just want you to be happy,” he said heavily, feeling like he was finally getting rid of the heaviness on his shoulders. “I – it’s not fair, how you haven’t – you haven’t been dating at all, far as I know, and I never even – I never even thought about that. But you were happy with him, and it’s – not fair, really, how…how what happened to me all those years ago accidentally ruined it. I just – you deserve to be happy, just like how I am. With Lou, I mean. I really – I really love him, and I – the way he makes me feel all the time…I want you to feel like that, too. Like you’re in a fairy-tale movie, or something, and you – you have to make sure you’re holding on to him or you might just float away because you’re _that happy_ and at the same time you know you could never float away because he’s like an anchor to the real world.” Harry blushed and fiddled with his fingers. “You – you should have that, too.”

Harry looked up at the silence and saw Anne smiling proudly at him. “Love you,” Anne said.

Harry smiled. “I love you, too,” he promised. “Promise me you’ll call Robin?” Anne smiled, but nodded, and Harry grinned triumphantly.

\---

Harry woke in the middle of the night, face tucked into Louis’ collarbone. Irate at being woken, he halfheartedly hit Louis’ chest and mumbled roughly, “Get still.”

Louis moaned breathily and only shifted around more, the material of his shorts rubbing on Harry’s hip.

“ _Lou_ ,” Harry whined and wrapped his arms tight around Louis’ waist, trying to trap him into being still so Harry could fall back asleep. He pulled Louis closer and tensed when he realized Louis’ penis was hard. Harry blushed when Louis’ hips rubbed against his, Louis breathing out a little harder than normal. Harry’s mind scrambled to decide what he should do.

If he woke Louis up, Louis would be embarrassed and apologize a lot, and it’d probably embarrass Harry, _and_ Harry would never get to sleep. If Harry just…let it happen, Louis would stay asleep and then Harry could probably get to sleep faster, as well, and nobody would ever know. Plus, Harry thought to himself, blushing, Louis had let Harry get off the other day. It was only fair.

Louis let out a quiet whine of need as his hips rubbed insistently on Harry’s, making Harry’s mind up for him. Harry shifted a little to be on his side completely, facing Louis. His legs were already entwined with Louis’, crossed at the ankles and calves, so Harry shifted the leg between Louis’ up a bit further, getting his thigh against Louis’ crotch. Louis let out a little sigh as he rutted against Harry’s thigh, and Harry couldn’t help but feel his penis start to take interest.

He shakily placed a hand on Louis’ bare waist, gripping at his hips to use as leverage as he pressed up and awkwardly moved his thigh against Louis, tucking his head back into Louis’ neck. He pressed nervous kisses against his shoulder and collarbone, swallowing as Louis’ breathing got a little faster and faster with each grind against his thigh.

Harry wanted to touch him. Wanted to feel Louis’ hard penis in his hand, run his fingers along its length and grip. He wanted to know if Louis’ penis would pulse in his hand, the way Harry’s did whenever he masturbated, wanted to know if Louis would make sounds like Harry, quiet and breathy, or if his sounds were more like in dirty videos online, all loud and obscene-like. Harry felt himself growing hard and let out a frustrated huff. He wanted so much, but he couldn’t, not without Louis saying it was okay.

It was just as well, really, because Harry could feel his eyes drooping despite his arousal, and he pressed closer to Louis, sliding his thigh close and pressed up against his hard penis, closing his eyes as he felt arousal shoot through him. Harry’s hand dipped a bit lower, pinky skimming over the waistband of Louis’ shorts and sliding lower until he was doing it – he was actually touching Louis’ bum. Harry gasped against Louis’ chest as the realization hit him that he was actually _groping_ his boyfriend’s bum, something he’d wanted to do since he’d first saw Louis’ backside, and he found his fingers squeezing, relishing in how firm Louis’ bum actually was.

Louis moaned a little louder, grasping Harry’s attention, and Harry moved his hand lower, fingers extended out far as possible before they curled over Louis’ arse cheek, grabbing as much of Louis’ bum as he could before squeezing and pulling Louis towards him for a heavier grind. Louis’ breathing was heavier and heavier, and as Harry squeezed his bum one more time, Louis tensed and went frigid in Harry’s arms.

Harry froze, terrified Louis had woken and was angry, but Louis soon relaxed with a little puff of breath against Harry’s curls, going limp and soft against Harry’s frame. Harry stayed still until he heard Louis’ breath even out, and then chanced a look up at his face.

Louis was asleep, peaceful and quiet, legs and an arm wrapped around Harry loosely, lips parted just slightly with his head on the pillow, the other arm tucked under his pillow. With a mixture of disappointment and relief, Harry realized his penis had softened a bit with the fear of having woken Louis up, and he was only half-hard. Harry palmed himself once for relief and wondered if he should masturbate. Was it creepy to masturbate with your boyfriend asleep right next to you? Harry supposed he could always get up and go to the toilet to relieve himself. His eyes blinked slowly as a yawn threatened to tear from his mouth at the thought of getting out of bed. That answered his question enough, Harry supposed.

Harry sighed and tucked his face into Louis’ neck again, smiling as Louis’ leg slid up and wrapped around Harry’s thigh. Harry grabbed the leg and hitched it up over his hips so it was more comfortable and let his hand rest there, the other curled between his chest and Louis’, fingers against the tiny little patch of baby hairs on Louis’ chest as he drifted back to sleep.

\---

Harry should’ve known it was a bad idea. Was doing what he did even legal? Harry wasn’t sure, but as soon as he woke up, Harry knew Louis wouldn’t have allowed it if he had known or been awake. Was that rape? Did Harry essentially sexually assault Louis? Did that count?

He was woken up by noises in his room, and when he turned on the bed and opened his eyes, he saw Louis rifling through his dresser drawer. Louis must’ve heard Harry moving around, because he turned and smiled sheepishly, pulling a pair of boxers from the drawer and holding them up.

“I, erm, had a bit of a naughty dream last night,” he admitted, blushing a little. “So I’ll just, erm –”

“I helped you last night!” Harry blurted, knowing he wouldn’t be able to stomach the guilt anymore if he didn’t.

“What?” Louis asked, looking at Harry like he’d grown two more heads.

Harry sat up in bed, crossing his legs under himself and pulling the sheets up over his bare shoulders, like he needed the extra cover. “You – woke me up, last night, and you were – you were, like, moving a lot, and so I – when I found your – your, erm, penis was – was hard, and I – I knew what you needed, and I – I’m really sorry – I kind’ve – like, put my, erm, my leg, between yours, and…and I – I, like, pushed it? And I – you, erm, you…you…came…like that.” Harry fidgeted and faced his lap, glancing warily up at Louis every few seconds. He didn’t really want to know what Louis’ reaction was, but at the same time he really wanted to know what Louis’ reaction was.

After an agonizing minute or so, Louis started laughing. It was quiet at first, and then got louder and Harry looked up, incredulous that Louis could be laughing, only to see his boyfriend coming towards him, dropping the boxers on the floor next to the bed.

Louis crawled up the bed to Harry on his hands and knees, and still laughing a little, kissed Harry’s lips.

Harry wasn’t sure what that meant, but he’d take anything that wasn’t Louis breaking up with him for being a creep. He threw his arms around Louis and laid down, pulling Louis with him tentatively. Louis came down with him, though, and Harry sighed when he felt Louis’ weight on top of him, pressing him down to the mattress.

“Harry,” Louis said between kisses, “I’m not mad, sweetheart.” He kissed Harry’s cheek and leaned up on his elbows, brushing hair out of Harry’s eyes and running hands along his jawline and cheeks. “It’s just – new, you know?” Harry nodded, relieved, and Louis kissed him again. “Wish you would’ve woken me up though,” Louis murmured playfully into Harry’s neck. Harry tiled his head sideways, breathing a little louder, and he swallowed hard.

“Next time,” Harry promised hoarsely.

Louis laughed quietly against Harry’s skin. “Next time,” he agreed, kissing more of Harry’s neck.

Harry swallowed as his hands ran down Louis’ back. “We could – again? If you wanted?”

Louis paused and then pulled back, looking at Harry seriously. “Harry,” he began, and then hesitated. “You – are you sure? We don’t have to if…” he trailed off when Harry nodded.

“I’m sure,” Harry said, letting his fingers crawl past Louis’ waistband, aware this was the first time he’d be touching Louis’ bum that Louis would know of. The thought made him feel like a creep again, so he kissed Louis hard. “I – I want you to – I wanna m-make you come,” he said, remembering what Niall said about being blunt and confident and sexy. He licked his lips and pulled his bottom one between his teeth.

Louis groaned and snatched Harry’s top lip between his, licking it and pinching it slightly between his teeth. “Harry,” he said firmly when he let go of Harry’s lip with a quiet _pop_ , “you need to be absolutely sure about this. I don’t – I might not be able to stop until I come if we start this. What exactly do you want?”

Harry squirmed beneath Louis’ weight, pulling his knees up and planting his feet flat on the mattress, pressing his legs tight against Louis so he couldn’t move away. “I,” Harry swallowed, looking into his boyfriend’s eyes. “I want to see you come,” he said, knowing it was true. “I want – I want to – can you do it like last night?” Harry swallowed again, thinking of his fantasy from last night, a flash of his hand on Louis’ erect penis, sliding up and down it with Louis making unheard sounds, and Harry nearly went dizzy from it – too much, then. “Can we – I –”

But Louis nodded, like he understood, and slowly relaxed more, pressing weight on Harry. Harry was nervous and tense, and he knew Louis could tell when Louis kissed him and whispered, “Relax, sweetheart, I’ll take care of you,” into his open mouth.

Harry nodded and Louis kissed him again, one hand in his curls and the other on his bare chest. “Tell me if it gets too much,” he reminded Harry, who spread his legs a little further and stretched his arms far to grip Louis’ bum. Louis let out a soft sound of surprise at the grope, but it quickly turned into a soft moan when Harry pulled him closer.

Louis allowed their hips to meet in a slow grind, almost too much pressure on Harry’s rapidly hardening penis, and Harry groaned as arousal sparked up his spine. “Just – I want everything,” fell out of Harry’s mouth without him ever thinking about it, and he crossed his ankles over the backs of Louis’ knees, lifting his hips into Louis’.

“What,” Louis said into Harry’s throat, “do you want my hand, baby, or just this?” He grinded down on Harry, making Harry whimper at the sweet friction.

“Just – just that,” Harry panted. “Too much,” he added, about the thought of Louis’ hand on him properly.

Louis nodded, and Harry sighed and kissed his collarbone, glad Louis understood.

“Oh –” Harry said when Louis’ hips started grinding in little circles. “Oh, I need – need you to k-kiss me, Lou, kiss me –”

Louis interrupted Harry’s babbling with a kiss, and Harry moaned and squeezed more of Louis’ bum as his stomach started tightening again, like the other day when Louis had made him come.

“Oh, Lou, I think – I think it’s gonna happen,” Harry panted into Louis’ lips, and Louis groaned and kissed him again, nodding encouragingly.

“Let it happen, sweetheart, it’s okay,” he said, and Harry bit Louis’ lip as Louis grinded down hard on him one last time.

The tightening in his belly exploded and shot in every direction, reaching his head and toes and fingers and his penis and he was coming, spurting into his boxers and staining the shorts above them. Harry’s mind went blank other than a massive euphoric feeling he couldn’t understand, feeling the fire all over his body and moaning when he realized Louis was still grinding and he was still feeling it, little buzzing flames with every grind. Harry opened his eyes and saw Louis staring down at him with his mouth open at an ‘o’, and Harry whimpered when Louis’ shifts were starting to hurt, his skin sensitive.

“Louis,” Harry whimpered, about to urge him to hurry, but Louis moaned, collapsing to fall into his chest. Harry felt a surge of warmth against his hip and he realized Louis was coming. Louis tensed and then went limp across Harry, weakly lifting his head to search for Harry’s lips.

Harry kissed him messily, still panting, and realized his hands were still on Louis’ bum. He pulled his hands up Louis’ back, letting his touch be light and soft and lingering. “I never – never made anyone – you know – c-come, before,” Harry said shyly, his words slurred as he felt himself drifting to sleep once more.

“I know,” he heard Louis say back – could hear the smile-smirk in Louis’ voice.

“Love you,” Harry mumbled, and Louis climbed off of Harry and pulled him so that Harry was tucked into Louis.

“I know that, too,” Louis said again, and kissed Harry’s cheek. “I love you, too,” he added softly, fondly, and Harry smiled.

“I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! So basically not much even happened, really.  
> Harry talked to Anne - during a cuddle, which was a bit unusual for them but appreciated by both nonetheless - and confessed that he'd met with Robin and wanted Anne to get back with him. Anne was conflicted, and Harry told Anne a lot about the dinner they'd had together and that Robin had agreed to play by Harry's rules, should Anne take him back. Anne only promised to TALK to Robin.  
> One night afterwards, Louis and Harry are cuddled in sleep and Louis gets restless and won't stay still, waking Harry up, and it turns out that Louis is having a sexy dream and is hard, and rutting against Harry to get off in his sleep. Harry places his thigh between Louis' legs and grabs Louis' bum to get him off, and they go back to sleep. The next morning, Harry admits it and Louis is more than okay with it - is actually pretty turned on by it - and Harry wants to get off with Louis again. They have a quick little discussion about being sure, typical sweet-guy Louis stuff, and rut against each other to get off. This includes a bit more of Harry's (sad attempt at) dirty-talk, grabbing Louis' bum, and both of them coming and being sweet and loving.  
> Told you - not much happened.


	20. Part 19.

“Wake up! Wake up!” Louis bounced on his hands and knees on his bed, trying (and mostly failing, because he had a tempurpedic bed) to jostle Harry awake.

But at Louis’ voice, Harry jerked up, arms flailing a little. “Are we late for school?!” He said, already standing up and running around Louis’ room like a tornado, trying to find clothes.

“Better,” Louis said, grabbing Harry’s attention. “We’re skipping today,” he said proudly.

Harry stared at him blankly. “Skipping,” he said, disbelief in his voice.

“Yeah, skipping. We’re not going to school today. Instead, I’m taking you out for your birthday.”

“But my birthday’s tomorrow,” Harry said.

Louis huffed. Harry was not grasping the fact that he was supposed to be excited to go on an adventure with him. “I _know_ ,” Louis said, refusing to let his mood drop by Harry’s lack of enthusiasm, “but your birthday belongs to Liam and Niall. It’s tradition, so I’m leaving you alone tomorrow.” He paused to grimace at Harry. “But today isn’t tomorrow, and as your boyfriend, it’s my job to make sure you enjoy your birthday, and since I can’t on your _actual_ birthday, I’m doing it today. We’re celebrating your not-birthday!”

Louis hopped off the bed and walked over to where Harry was standing, holding random articles of clothing, and wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist, pulling him in and grinning at him. Harry wrapped his arms around Louis’ neck. “Now,” Louis said, rocking them side to side with a grin that Harry eventually grew to match, “go take a nice, hot shower, and wear warm layers. Mum’s working today and since it’s already half-nine, the girls are in class. Take your time. I’ll be downstairs, cooking breakfast.” He turned to go, but Harry’s grip tightened on him. When Louis looked at Harry’s face, he was confused to see Harry biting his lip.

“Lou, erm...” Harry seemed to be having some moral internal debate going on, and Louis’ eyebrows furrowed. Today was Harry’s not-birthday. He shouldn’t be worrying. “It’s, like…really lovely of you to skip school with me all day, and let me have a nice hot shower, and take me out and pamper me and all of that; you don’t need to tire yourself out, cooking, as well. Let me cook; I enjoy it.” Harry looked at Louis with eyes filled with hopefulness and…anxiety.

“You’re just worried I’ll burn the house down if I cook!” Louis cried, laughing when Harry looked guilty. “Sweetheart, when I said ‘cooking breakfast’, I meant ‘driving quickly to McDonald’s to grab you a number nine and a tea’.” He laughed when Harry looked relieved. “That was so sweet of you, trying to convince me I shouldn’t have to cook as well, though. Ten points to Harry Styles for being sweet.” He kissed Harry’s cheek and wriggled from the embrace, patting Harry’s arse cheekily as he walked from the room.

 ---

“So. Where are we going?”

Louis took his eyes off the road for a moment to look at Harry, who was munching happily on his bagel and watching him hopefully. He laughed and shook his head, grinning at the pout Harry put on. “No way,” Louis taunted. “I’m not telling you. It’s going to be amazing, and you’re going to be happy. So shush while I drive, or you’ll make me wreck; your face is being all distracting.”

Harry laughed, but quieted, turning up the music a bit and they both sang quietly, Louis turning when he needed.

After nearly an hour, Louis turned onto a winding dirt road which eventually opened up into a massive and empty lot with spray-painted yellow and white lines all over the place. The lines weren’t exactly straight – Louis had done them himself one day when he didn’t have work and Harry did, and it’s not like he could draw a straight line with a pencil on paper, much less with spray-paint on concrete – but it was as good a makeshift driving course as Louis could get. There was nothing but empty grass and field past the concrete all around, and nobody came back here.

“Lou…is this where you’re taking me to kill me?”

Louis snorted and looked at Harry, killing the engine and leaning over to kiss his cheek. “Out of the car,” he said.

“What?”

“Come on, get out of the car. Trade spots with me.” Louis unbuckled and stepped out of the car, making it around to Harry’s side. Harry was slowly starting to walk around to Louis’ side when Louis grabbed his hips and pushed him against the car, silencing his confused sound with a kiss, moaning into it immediately.

Harry’s arms wrapped around him instantly, pulling him closer, and Louis tightened his grip on Harry’s hips, pushing him just a bit harder against the car, wrapping his tongue around Harry’s as soon as Harry licked into his mouth. Harry made a whimpering sort of sound and his hips jerked forward a little of their own accord, and Louis slowed the kiss to a stop, pressing little kitty kisses against his cheeks and nose until he was giggling and moving his face away from Louis’ lips.

Harry giggled and shrieked when Louis chased his face with his puckered-out lips and wrapped his arms around Louis’ neck to pull him in close for a hug, moving in tight and close. Louis chuckled at Harry’s reaction to his silliness, hugging Harry tight and kissing the side of his neck before pulling away. “Alright,” he said, “now go get in the front seat. This is something we’re doing. You’re sixteen, now; you need to learn to drive.”

Harry’s face lit up. “Really?” He said, bouncing on his toes. “You’re seriously teaching me how to drive?!”

Louis kissed his lips quickly, grinning. “Not if you don’t get your arse in the car,” he teased.

They both got into the car and buckled their seatbelts. “Now, press down the brake…good, and turn the key. Good, so it’s caught, and this is an automatic, so at least that’s easy for you. Put the car in drive – brake – okay, so you let off the brake and – easy, easy, easy…good, right. See the lines? Stay in between them.”

Harry gripped the wheel with white knuckles, making it obvious how aware he was of driving such an expensive car, but Louis wasn’t worried about it. Harry responded well to the directions, doing exactly as he was told, and Louis was surprised at how well he was driving for his first time. His movements were all a bit tense and jerky, but at least he didn’t give Louis whiplash or an aneurysm.

Louis taught Harry to parallel park, three-point turns, how to drive well in reverse (which was very hard for Harry – it had Louis gripping his seat and Harry saying, “Oops,” calmly, like it wasn’t death-defying), how to park cleanly, and timing things, like how long before the turn to put the signal on, and things. Harry took to the rules like a fish to water, and before Louis knew it, Harry had completed the course easily with no mistakes (aside from a slight swerving during the reverse driving).

Harry beamed to himself, staring at Louis for approval. When Louis smiled, Harry’s smile grew even more, and Louis said, “Alright, ready for more learning?” Harry nodded, and Louis let his face grow serious. “I’m going to show you the single, most important thing about owning and driving a car.” When Harry stared at him solemnly enough for his liking, Louis said, “Kill the engine, unbuckle, and push your seat back.” Harry complied, and Louis grinned wolfishly, whipping his own seatbelt off and climbing over the arm rest and straddling Harry’s lap.

Harry laughed happily. “You’re feeling frisky today,” he commented, but he didn’t look uncomfortable, so Louis only grinned. “It’s a good thing it’s my not-birthday,” Harry continued, mocking seriousness, “otherwise I probably wouldn’t be allowed to do _this_.” Harry grabbed Louis’ bum, resting against his lap, and pulled his hips forward.

“Mmm,” Louis hummed appreciatively, smiling down at Harry before he took Harry’s face in his hands and kissed him, raising higher on his knees to make Harry crane to kiss him. Harry’s hands ran down the backs of his thighs, and Louis felt a thrill go through him. He loved that Harry was getting more comfortable with his body.

Louis pulled away from the kiss, giggling when Harry stretched to chase his lips, eyes still closed. Louis swooped down for a quick little peck, grinning stupidly as he pulled away only to do it over a few times. Harry made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat and grabbed Louis’ necklace and pulled Louis down to kiss him.

Just that one little move, that tiny bit of confident and frustrated domination had Louis half-hard in his jeans. And pressed up against Harry the way he was, Louis knew Harry would feel it. Louis tried to back away for a moment, just inch his groin away from Harry’s, but Harry shook his head and kept kissing him.

Louis mentally shrugged and curled his fingers through Harry’s hair, scratching at his scalp a bit to make Harry whine. Harry’s hips rolled unexpectedly, and Louis let out a tiny groan when he realized Harry was mostly hard, too.

Harry groaned back at the friction and bit his lip, eyes wide and begging Louis to do something. Louis shook his head, knowing he had more plans and no extra boxers.

“But it’s my _birthday_ ,” Harry whined, and Louis laughed out loud at that.

He leaned down and placed a placating kiss on Harry’s lips, letting his fingertips caress down Harry’s cheek. “Later, I promise,” he vowed. Harry nodded, and Louis smiled, kissing him more before finally moving back, sitting on Harry’s knees. “Alright, we’ve got another place to go,” he said with a grin.

Harry pretended to grumble as he slid from under Louis to the passenger seat again, buckling up after an insistent kiss. Louis drove with one hand, the other on Harry’s knee with his thumb moving circles around the sharp bone of it.

“This looks familiar,” Harry said quietly, eventually, as they drove down a deserted street they’d been on together only once.

“Does it?” Louis asked noncommittally, fighting a smile.

Harry didn’t answer, pressed against the window, watching as Louis carefully pulled off the road and parked the car.

“Come on, then,” Louis said, smiling openly now as he killed the engine and climbed out of the car. Harry followed and Louis moved around to pull out the things he’d brought and stored in the very back of the car, so Harry wouldn’t see it. “Wait for me; it’s tricky maneuvering down there,” Louis called out as Harry surveyed the area.

“Lou,” Harry began quietly when Louis shut the trunk, carrying a massive basket of things and an only slightly smaller gift bag that was bulging. He didn’t finish speaking though.

Louis wrapped the string handles of the gift bag over his wrist and took Harry’s hand in his, leading him slowly down the little hill towards the clearing by the small pond at the bottom of the slope. Louis set the basket and bag down on the grass before he moved up behind Harry, wrapping his arms around him and kissing the back of his head.

“What are you thinking?” Louis asked quietly, rocking them side to side gently.

“I’m thinking about how you’ve taken me to the spot we went on our first date because you want to seduce me.”

Louis tensed up for a second; did Harry really think that? But Harry snickered then, and Louis relaxed, laughing with him. He kissed Harry’s hair again and pulled away to grab the blankets. It was pretty cold this time, in February, so Louis had grabbed a blanket to sit on and a few blankets to wrap up in.

Harry helped spread the blanket out and gathered rocks just like last time to keep the edges grounded before he crawled ( _fucking crawled on his hands and knees_ ) towards Louis, sidling up next to him. Louis smiled to himself as he pulled out the other blankets and lay them over both their laps, allowing Harry to snuggle in close to him.

“You’re having sandwiches for your lunch; I hope you’re alright with that,” Louis announced sheepishly. “I couldn’t think of anything else that would keep for, like, four hours,” he explained.

“It’s great, Lou,” Harry assured him, leaning in to kiss him quickly.

They made their lunches and ate quietly, snuggling close until Harry apparently had enough of it and huffed, throwing the blankets off so he could take off his massive jacket.

“Harry, you’ll freeze –” Louis protested, but Harry ignored him and handed his sandwich to Louis to hold.

Louis nearly fell over when Harry pushed his legs apart and crawled in between them, snuggling back, pressing his back to Louis’ chest. Harry leaned for the blankets and pulled them up to his chest, settling back against Louis. Louis handed Harry back his sandwich and then put a hand out behind him to brace himself so they could both relax fully.

Louis crossed his legs over Harry’s lap, feet dangling off his thighs, and Harry squirmed happily, impossibly closer to him. “This has been the best not-birthday ever,” he said happily, leaning his head back against Louis’ shoulder.

“Yeah?” Louis asked, trying to disguise the relief in his voice.

He’d been nervous on how to make this day go. He had the _money_ to make this birthday spectacular and insane for Harry, but he knew Harry would feel uncomfortable with it. So Louis used only money he’d got from working for Harry’s presents (alright…he dipped into his bank account a _little_ ) and for the spray cans for the driving course, and food from his kitchen and blankets from the linen closet. He even used a gift bag he’d received a present in. And he made the card…which was exactly _terrible_ , but Harry loved awful, weird things like that, so Louis had really put effort into it.

“ _Yeah_ ,” Harry said, tilting his head back to look up at Louis. Louis leaned down and pecked his lips, making Harry smile.

“I’m glad you like it so far,” Louis said, smiling. He reached over for the bag and said, “But now it’s time for you to like it more.”

Harry giggled and looked down, blushing a little as Louis set the bag in his lap, peering over his shoulder. Harry looked back at him for a moment before looking back to the bag.

“Go ahead,” Louis urged him. “It’s nothing, like…it’s not like my necklace,” he warned, suddenly feeling nervous. He’d never been nervous about gifts. He always knew what people wanted, because the people he bought gifts for were either absolute twats who said “buy me this”, like Zayn and Stan, or his mum and sisters, who were insanely easy to read. Harry never asked for _anything_ , though. He just said he wanted to _spend time with Louis_ for his birthday. And, like…he didn’t even ask for a proper _date_. He’d have been fine just sitting in his room listening to random music off Louis’ iPod doing homework and sneaking in kisses. What _was_ that?

Louis had nearly gone insane, looking for Harry’s presents. And honestly, it was kind of a whim. Harry had spoken about it a few times, and Louis had seen the state of Harry’s…Louis bit his lip as Harry pulled out the fluffy tissue paper – a rainbow of colors, because Louis couldn’t find enough of one color in sisters’ craft closet to fully cover it up – and pulled out the box.

“Lou.” Harry’s voice was shaky even on the single syllable, and Louis wrapped his arms tight around Harry’s middle.

“It’s alright,” he said absently, and kissed Harry’s temple.

Harry lifted the lid and gasped quietly, running his fingers across the shoes with reverence. He paused and turned sideways, staring at Louis evenly. Louis stared back, already preparing his argument that Harry keep them.

“I – Louis, you – these are _really_ expensive –”

“Harry, I _swear_ , I afforded them. Look, I even got you last year’s edition, because I knew you’d argue, alright? Just – please, accept them. It’s rude to turn down a gift,” he tacked on. It was probably a low blow, but Harry _deserved_ these cleats.

Harry shook his head – but in disbelief, rather than disagreement – and looked back at the cleats. “Adizeros,” he breathed. “You bought me _F50 Adizeros_ , Louis, Christ!” He laughed incredulously.

“Do you…do you like the color?” Louis asked, fingers fidgeting with Harry’s shirt underneath the blankets. “’Cause there are other colors, I kept the receipt in case you didn’t –”

“Lou, I swear, these are the _exact_ ones I told Mum about not even a month ago,” Harry said, smiling.

Louis sighed in relief, glad Harry both liked the color and was getting excited about the gifts. He watched Harry trace the purple kangaroo leather and the yellow of the spikes and writing, and when he peeked over at Harry’s face, he saw his boyfriend’s eyes were huge, studying the shoes so closely.

Louis bit his lip and shifted his legs on Harry’s lap, not-so-subtly pushing the bag close to Harry again. “There’s – there’s a little bit more,” he said hesitantly.

Harry looked at him curiously before reaching in the bag and pulling the card.

It was almost embarrassing, really – carefully-folded orange construction paper with _Happy Birthday, Sweetheart!_ written in big letters (with poor spacing, as well) across the front and a big appalling attempt of a drawing of a football underneath it. Harry smiled and traced the letters before he opened it, and on the inside flap was another drawing, but this time of Harry and Louis as stick figures (kind of – Louis had been worried Harry would think the drawings were naked and get the wrong idea of how he wanted to celebrate, so he attempted to put clothes on them, which...didn’t turn out very well, but it was the thought that counted) holding hands with massive smiles on their faces and a big red heart in the middle of them. Underneath the picture (which was completed with a blue sky and green little lines to resemble grass), Louis had written, _I love you!_. On the other side, Louis had written him a little tiny message which used phrases like _I love you_ and endearments like _sweetheart_ and _babe_ too much about how important Harry was to him and how happy Louis was to have him in his life.

Harry read it all with a smile and then tucked the card safely inside the bag, nestled in the shoebox next to it so it wouldn’t fly away, and promptly turned and pushed Louis to the ground, twisting around to lay on top of him, and kissed him.

Louis made a sound of complete surprise but complied nonetheless (oh, the hardship of being kissed by his boyfriend), wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist and kissing him back.

“Oh my god, I love you so much,” Harry murmured as he kissed Louis almost frantically, his entire body writhing on top of Louis’.

Louis slowly flipped them over and Harry keened, arching his chest to touch Louis and tangling his fingers together behind Louis’ neck. Louis kind of ached for Harry’s long fingers in his hair, but he knew if Harry started, Louis might die, and he was kind of trying for that whole ‘restraint-because-your-boyfriend’s-a-virgin’ thing, so.

Harry licked at Louis’ tongue, sucking on Louis’ bottom lip when his tongue disappeared again, back into Louis’ mouth, and one of Harry’s hands swept down Louis’ back and straight onto his bum. Louis swallowed a groan when Harry squeezed his bum cheek and pulled at him, pushing their hips together. Louis tried to think about the fact that they were outside, technically in public, and also in ridiculous and cold weather, but then Harry would brush their groins together or suck obscenely on Louis’ tongue or, well, _breathe_ , and it was hard for him to focus.

A sudden chorus of squawking and angry sounds and splashes went off, and they both jumped, Louis rolling off Harry to look at the pond behind him, Harry sitting up to look.

“Lou, oh my god!” Harry covered his mouth in horror, and Louis’ reaction wasn’t different.

A little duckling was squeaking and quacking feebly as other ducklings, some about the same size and some bigger, surrounded it and attacked it.

Harry jumped up and ran, shouting, towards the water, thinking to take his shoes and socks off and pull up the legs of his jeans before he waded in, still shouting at them. Louis got up and followed, standing outside the water’s edge as Harry walked toward the group.

The other ducklings swam away, quacking urgently, but the little one was too small to paddle quickly enough, and Harry soon caught it and cradled it to his chest, cooing at it when it squawked in fear and flapped its little wings.

Harry made it to the grass again and showed the duckling to Louis, who immediately felt awful for the poor thing. One of its wings was a little lopsided, and there were bald spots on it and scratches and even a little spot of blood on its little neck.

“Lou, we have to get him to a vet,” Harry implored. Louis glanced up at Harry and nodded, agreeable even _without_ Harry’s impossible puppy eyes, and he picked up Harry’s socks and shoes and murmured, “Go get in the car,” as he walked back to their blanket area.

Louis cleaned everything up quickly, separating Harry’s gift bag and Harry’s jacket, and piling the rest up on top of the biggest blanket before he grabbed each of the corners and hauled it over his shoulder and walking back to the car.

\---

“I feel like a good person,” Harry said at dinner, smiling at Louis at the table.

“You should; that was so nice!” Daisy cried out, having heard the story of Lucy The Duck (Harry just _had_ to name it – didn’t even know the sex, but he _had_ to name it).

They had driven to the vet’s office and waited next to a dog with some kind of wheezing cough, cradling Lucy close and cooing at her. Harry had insisted on wrapping her up in his scarf so she didn’t freeze (“Poor little thing, doesn’t even know what’s happening, probably, and she’ll _freeze_!”), and his thumbs swept across her gently but quickly, hoping to provide a little friction for warmth. They’d dropped Lucy off with the vet after telling her what they’d seen, and she explained that Lucy was probably from a different flock encroaching on their territory – that, or the other ducks were trying to impress a female nearby. The vet promised to take good care of Lucy, and though Harry was reluctant to leave, Louis convinced him, knowing Anne would _never_ stand to have a _duck_ live with them.

Harry beamed at the twins, who now saw Harry as some kind of divine savior for helping Lucy, and they beamed back. Louis swore their eyes turned into pumping hearts, like the cartoons.

The twins had given Harry bracelets they’d made all by themselves, as they were proud to announce (Lottie had helped them), which Harry immediately put on and wore proudly, next to his other ones. Daisy’s was bright pink and one of the ‘R’s was backwards, while Phoebe’s was blue and green and had star beads and circle beads. Harry thanked them both and assured them that he loved the bracelets equally.

Lottie had given Harry a DVD, some sappy Nicholas Sparks movie Harry would make Louis watch with him, and Felicite had given Harry a CD of some band Louis had never heard of. Jay gave Louis and Harry tickets to a Coldplay concert for April.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough excitement for one night,” Jay interrupted the twins’ fawning over Harry with a smile. “Bed time, girls,” she said. The twins whined but hugged Louis and Harry and went up to bed.

Louis and Harry snuggled in Louis’ bed, lazily making out as _Dear John_ played on Louis’ telly in the background. They didn’t get riled up, as Louis’ sisters and mum were all close by, but Harry fell asleep half-on top of Louis with his arms wrapped tight around Louis, and that was good enough for him.


	21. Part 20.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MY GOD THIS TOOK FOREVER AND I AM SO SORRY.  
>  **serious warnings for this one, guys. There's a massive flashback with a killer panic attack and come-down. Please, I'm begging you, take care of yourselves. Summary at the bottom, for those of you who might be triggered by this.**

Harry woke to his face being peppered with kisses. He groaned and rolled towards it, even in half-sleep basking in the attention.

“Harryyyy,” Louis sing-songed, making Harry smile. “It’s time to wake uuuup, it’s your birthday and you need to go hoooooome.”

Right. Home. Because it was his birthday, and Harry’s mum always cooked him breakfast on his birthday. Harry opened his eyes and glanced at the clock before groaning and rolling over, burying his face in the pillow. “Why’d you wake me up at _four in the morning_ ,” he moaned pitifully.

“So you could get home and have time to go back to sleep,” Louis said, and. Well. That had logic in there somewhere.

Harry groaned and rolled over, kissing Louis’ cheek as he was fully aware of the sour taste in his mouth from sleep. Louis kissed his nose and stared at him fondly for a moment before he bounced up. “Come on, Birthday Boy,” Louis chirped, walking to his door.

Harry sighed and stood, putting on a shirt and looking longingly at Louis’ bed.

“Come on,” Louis urged with a chuckle. “You can sleep in the car.”

 ---

Harry woke up again to little sounds of shuffling pots and pans and the smell of breakfast. He pried his sleepy eyes open for the second time that morning and stared at the living room ceiling. He hadn’t had the willpower to make it all the way upstairs when Louis dropped him off earlier.

Harry climbed off the couch and shivered at the cold, heading over to turn up the thermostat before he made his way to the kitchen, where his mum was bustling around, making loads of food.

“Hi, baby,” she smiled when she saw him, gripping the pan on the burner. Harry smiled back. “Happy birthday,” she added.

“Thanks, Mum,” Harry said, moving around her to get a glass of water before his throat caught fire. His mouth was dry.

“You go get ready for school, and I’ll call you down in time to eat. The boys are coming over, yeah?” She checked.

Harry nodded. “Liam and Niall, yeah. Louis’ leaving me alone for the day, since it’s mine and Liam’s and Niall’s tradition that it’s just us,” he added with a little smile at how sweet his boyfriend was.

Anne beamed at that, clearly approving, and Harry headed upstairs to shower, brush his teeth, and get dressed. He threw his phone on the charger, and when he got out of the shower and had clothes on, he checked it and saw he had a few messages – one from Liam, about six from Niall, one from Danielle, one from Stan, one from Zayn, and one from his gran, all sweet and full of lovely wishes (except Niall’s – Niall’s messages ranged from slightly suggestive to absolutely explicit, leaving Harry blushing.

By the time he was downstairs, Harry’s mum had finished loading his plate up, and they ate and she gave him his presents – more bracelets she’d noticed him talking him about lately, and a pair of boots that nearly had Harry drooling. He thanked her with a hug and a kiss and smiled at the light blush on her cheeks when she went to answer the door and let Liam and Niall in.

They clapped Harry on the back and sat down, talking about their plans for that night and asking if there was anything in particular Harry wanted to see or do. Harry shrugged and admitted he hadn’t really been paying attention to what was in the theatres, and told them to choose and he’d be fine with whatever.

 ---

After practice, Louis gently pressed Harry against the lockers in the locker room and kissed him, his fingers sliding into Harry’s sweat-matted curls and sucking on his lip until Harry whimpered and his hips started inching up further and further.

Louis pulled away and pressed one last chaste kiss to Harry’s lips before leaning their foreheads together, still rubbing at Harry’s scalp as they caught their breath.

“Love you,” Louis said, smiling. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks,” Harry replied, biting his lip to hide a smile. “I love you, too.”

Louis patted Harry on the side of his thigh and said, “Have a good time tonight,” as he pulled away, only pausing one last time to run a thumb over Harry’s lip.

Harry smiled and breathed out at the same time as he watched Louis walk out, and then rushed to get into the shower and wash the sweat from his body. Liam and Niall were picking him up in a few minutes and were going straight to dinner, and Harry certainly didn’t want to smell foul.

Just as Harry was buttoning his shirt up, he heard a knock on the locker room door accompanied with, “Hazza?” and knew Niall and Liam were outside in the cold.

Harry grabbed his stuff and jogged to the door, opened it, greeted them all a little breathlessly, and nearly sprinted to Liam’s car – no use in staying out in the cold longer than necessary, especially with Harry having wet hair.

On the way to the restaurant, they sang loudly to whatever music Niall could stand – he was a bit of a music snob, sometimes – and chatted idly.

“Oh, thank God,” Harry groaned when they pulled into Buffalo Wild Wings. “I’m so hungry I could eat an elephant.”

 ---

Harry shoved a wing into his mouth, ignoring the watering of his eyes at the heat and spice.

“So…how are you and Louis?” Liam asked.  
Slightly surprised – Liam didn’t typically bring Louis up – Harry chewed and carefully swallowed, glancing at Niall, who looked mildly surprised as well. “We’re – good, actually,” Harry said, a smile pulling his lips up. “We’re really good.”

Liam nodded, cutting a wing in half with his fork before he looked up again. He opened his mouth, hesitated, and then said, “You know I – I don’t hate him, Harry.” He looked down at his fork again before adding, “I just – I’ve always protected you, and – it’s almost like you’re a mix of my little brother and my son, or something. I just don’t want you to ever be hurt, and…I guess at first I was afraid of that. You getting hurt, I mean.”

Harry listened and smiled, nodding. “I know, Li,” he said. And he did. He understood that Liam had always been the protector, and always would. It had to have been difficult to get used to seeing Harry with someone, to get used to relinquishing a bit of control.

“I – erm – spoke with him,” Liam confessed, looking sheepish.

“When?” Harry asked, eyebrows furrowing. “He never…”

“I asked him not to,” Liam admitted. “It was a few days ago…I called him a few nights ago and asked him to excuse himself for a minute to talk.”

Harry remembered the other day, when Louis had checked his phone, mumbling in confusion before answering and leaving quickly. When he’d come back, he’d said it was Andy calling from work, asking where Louis had put something. “What did you talk about?” Harry asked curiously.

“We – I, really, I suppose – I asked about you two, and just kind of – it wasn’t the, like, ‘hurt him and I’ll hurt you’, or anything. Just…leveling, I guess. Kind of like, basically, I told him that I’m really protective and I have good reason to be, and that I care about you a lot and want to – make sure you’re happy but more importantly, safe, and…just things like that, really. And he said he wanted to get to know me, because you care about me, too, and it’s important to you that him and I get along, I guess.” Harry nodded. “…So now we kind of talk, like a little bit, here and there. Nothing really significant, but –”

“Liam, that’s _wonderful_!” Harry interrupted excitedly. Liam smiled hesitantly, and Harry beamed back at him.

“So, Nialler, what about you and Zayn, hmm?” Liam finally asked, smiling one last time at Harry before turning his attention to Niall.

“We’re really good,” Niall said casually. “We’re kind of – like, only seeing each other now? Nobody else, and that’s…cool.”

Liam and Harry shared a secret smile at Niall’s forced nonchalance, humming noncommittally so as not to ruin it.

“Yeah, and he does this thing…” Niall started rattling on, getting more and more excited as he talked, and Harry listened until his phone vibrated.

_Look outside_

Harry read Louis’ text and glanced up curiously, craning his neck to see outside the window.

“Harry, what are you doing?” Niall asked, a mischievous smile on his face.

Ignoring the out-of-place expression, Harry absentmindedly answered, “I just got this weird text from Lou, telling me to look outside…so I’m looking.”

“Is it time already?” Liam asked surprised as he glanced at his watch.

“What?” Harry asked, looking at Liam. Liam only smiled complacently, so Harry looked to Niall, who – well, Niall was never not smiling, pretty much. “What’s going on?” Harry asked. “Guys?”

“Do you mind if I kidnap you?”

Harry jumped when he felt lips press against his ear. He instantly recognized Louis’ voice, though, and he was smiling as he turned around, swatting at Louis’ chest. “You scared me!” He complained, and stopped short when he noticed Louis’ dress.

In a complete suit, Louis’ slicked-up hair shone and his bright blue eyes stood out. Head to toe, Louis looked like he’d stepped off the cover of _Forbes_ magazine. People in the casual restaurant were gawking at Louis a little, and Harry didn’t blame them.

Harry swallowed. “What – you, erm. You look nice.”

Louis smiled and glanced down at the floor before looking back up at Harry through his lashes, and Harry was pretty sure Louis was smoldering at him. “Will you come with me?”

“I – erm,” Harry paused, staring at Louis even more. “I’m with Liam and Niall,” he said, reminding Louis and not sure why Louis didn’t remember.

“No, go with him,” Niall urged. Harry whipped around to Niall in confusion before looking over at Liam, who was also smiling.

“We planned this,” Liam said happily. “Louis’ taking you to a place you want to go badly but won’t ever, ever admit.”

Thoughts whirring, Harry checked their faces one last time. “Are you sure?” he asked hesitantly. “I mean, it’s tradition –”

“To have dinner,” Liam interrupted. He waved his hand at Harry’s empty plate. “And we have. Now, it’s time for you to go enjoy your boyfriend.”

Harry smiled at both of his best mates and stood, hugging both of them before walking to stand in front of Louis. Louis grinned and held out his hand, and Harry took it, blushing. Louis waved to Liam and Niall, who waved back, and led Harry out of the restaurant and into his car.

 ---

“ _Lou_ ,” Harry breathed, his eyes wide as he saw the sign. “How did you –”

“Harry, a man never reveals his sources,” Louis interrupted smugly.

Harry’s eyes narrowed. “You got it out of Niall,” he guessed.

“…It’s possible.” Louis’ lips twitched.

 _Don Quixote_ stood outlined on the sign above the theatre, and Harry glanced self-consciously at his attire – black jeans and a white shirt, a navy blazer pulled over top of it.

“You look fine,” Louis said, noticing. Harry blushed but still looked worried, and Louis said, “It’ll be dark within five minutes; nobody will see you. You’re okay.”

Harry squeezed Louis’ hand in gratitude and warned, “Ballets are boring, Lou; are you sure you want to go?”

Louis made a noise of mock outrage. “Says the one who’s never been to a ballet before!” He said, contorting his face into scandal and making Harry laugh. “Good sir, do _not_ insult the art of classical dance.”

“So, you’ve been to a ballet before then, Lou?” Harry said, disbelieving and amused.

“Of course I have, you uncultured barbarian,” Louis said, poking his nose into the air for all of three seconds before laughing. He turned and kissed Harry sweetly before pulling away, and Harry smiled when he noticed how bright Louis’ eyes were. “Come on!” He said cheerfully, pulling Harry into the theatre.

\---

During the intermission, Harry and Louis watched a woman be proposed to, and Harry and Louis clapped loudly, grinning giddily at each other and Harry had a sudden flash of Louis on a knee with a ring in hand and a hopeful expression on his face. Harry froze for a second, surprised how easily his mind had come up with that scenario, and Louis noticed, nudging him and giving him an _Are you alright?_ look. Harry smiled as best as he could and nodded, and luckily the curtain pulled open again and the lights dimmed.

For the rest of the ballet, though, Harry could hardly focus, his thoughts drifting to how much he loved Louis that he could possibly be thinking of a future with him after not quite six months at sixteen years old. He wondered if Louis thought that far ahead, but thought probably not – Louis had things like his family and more education to worry about.

Still, it was a nice idea, Harry decided when he looked down and noticed his and Louis’ hands had been twisted together the entire time.

On the way out of the play, a woman stopped Harry and Louis and told them they made the cutest couple she’d ever seen in her life. Louis’ chest puffed up with pride and Harry blushed, squeezing Louis’ hand and biting his lip to his a grin as he stared at his shoes. Louis thanked the woman and led the way back to his car, pressing a kiss to his temple as they went.

 ---

Louis sat on his knees on his bed, in his black dress slacks, white button-up shirt, black jacket, and black tie. Harry sat between Louis’ legs, his own legs over Louis’ and loosely wrapped around Louis’ back. Louis’ hands were in Harry’s hair, and Harry’s hands were on Louis’ chest, underneath his jacket, and they were kissing, slow and steady.

Harry pulled away and slowly pushed the jacket from Louis’ shoulders, staring into his eyes meaningfully. When Louis didn’t answer, Harry’s fingers sought the tie around his neck. He pulled the tie loose and then pulled it over Louis’ head, dropping it behind Louis, before slowly moving his fingers back to Louis’ collar. “Please,” Harry said. Louis swallowed and moved his hands from Harry’s curls, down his back before he slowly nodded.

Harry’s breathing was shaky as his trembling fingers fought to unbutton Louis’ perfectly-pressed white dress shirt. Louis was patient, his hands on Harry’s back, rubbing up and down in a comforting way.

“Love you,” he told Harry, eyebrows raised like he really wanted to remind Harry that, in case he’d forgotten.

Harry’s answering laugh was a little wobbly, but Louis didn’t comment on it. “I love you, too,” Harry said, fighting now with the last button. When it was undone, Harry slid his hands up Louis’ chest, staring at the expanse of skin beneath his fingers. Louis didn’t say anything, and didn’t move, and Harry was grateful, because he could look at Louis’ body all day long for every day for the rest of his life and never get tired of it. Harry slid his hands up to Louis’ shoulders and pushed backwards a little and out, sliding the shirt off Louis’ shoulders. Harry’s hands slid down Louis’ arms, pushing the shirt, and when it was off, Harry stared a little bit longer. “You’re – you’re really beautiful,” Harry whispered, blushing. Louis didn’t answer, but Harry didn’t need him to. When he looked up at Louis’ face, it was tender and sweet, and the only bit of hunger in his eyes was hidden behind the love.

Harry ducked his head and kissed Louis’ chest, right where his heart would be, underneath all that muscle and skin. Louis’ hands slowed to a still on Harry’s back, and Harry lifted his face to look at him. Louis smiled, so Harry leaned in and kissed his smile, hands on Louis’ chest between them.

Harry slid his hands up and around Louis’ shoulders to feel his back, wrapping his arms around him and hugging him. Louis tightened his hold on Harry and hugged him back, rocking them side to side slightly while Harry pressed kisses on the top of Louis’ shoulder. He let his lips rest against Louis’ shoulder and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and steeling himself.

Louis had seen him shirtless before. Louis had gotten him off shirtless before. But those times, Harry had already been shirtless, whereas this time, Louis was taking his shirt off. It was a whole new vulnerability he was exposing himself to, and Harry had never felt it before.

But this was Louis. _His_ Louis, to be precise. His Louis, who watched girly movies with him and told him he was beautiful every day and worked _so hard_ to give Harry any and everything he ever wanted or needed.

So Harry nodded and stayed still when Louis peeled the shirt off over his head, and Harry opened his eyes to watch Louis’ eyes rake over his bare torso. “You know, you’re beautiful, too,” Louis said softly, deepening the red on Harry’s cheeks.

“Thank you,” Harry whispered, the manners too ingrained to ignore, and Louis smiled, because he knew that.

“You’re welcome,” Louis said. “Can you – do you want on top, or me?”

“You,” Harry answered predictably, and he went pliantly when Louis gently pushed his shoulder down to the mattress, quickly placing a pillow under his head.

Louis knelt over him and kissed him, paying attention to every inch of Harry’s face and neck until he heard Harry’s breath coming a little faster and heavier. Louis let his lips drag across Harry’s collarbones and smiled when Harry’s hands started gliding up and down his back, pressing into the indentation of muscles on Louis’ shoulders especially.

Louis’ kisses got lower and he pressed face against Harry’s chest over his heart, kissing it multiple times enough so Harry would giggle and relax, but also feel treasured.

“Happy birthday,” Louis said as he kissed right above Harry’s belly button, with Harry fidgeting and squirming underneath him in anticipation.

“You’re my favorite present,” Harry blurted out, and then blushed, throwing an arm over his eyes as he laughed at how corny it all sounded.

Louis smiled fondly and crawled back up to kiss his mouth and gently bit at a dimple just to make Harry smile some more. Louis moved back down and sat back on his knees, letting his hands graze over everywhere his lips had been so far – Harry’s face, his neck and shoulders, collarbones and chest, his arms and hands all the way down his torso to his belly button – and Louis dared to sink lower, slowly, when Harry nodded in encouragement, his hands sliding down to Louis’ bum.

Louis’ hand slowed as he made it to Harry’s jeans, keeping it on the button and zipper. Louis leaned back up and kissed Harry, keeping his hand completely still as he let him get used to the sensation of a hand close to his cock, like this. Harry keened as Louis sucked on his bottom lip, and the hands on Louis’ bum tightened, making Louis grin.

“Go, Lou, p-please, just – just do it, put your – your hand on me,” Harry said breathily, his hips jerking upwards a little as his hands traveled up to lock behind Louis’ neck.

“Sure?” Louis checked, but Harry nodded and closed his eyes, eyebrows coming together as he focused on relaxing.

“I want – I want it,” he said haltingly, biting his lip and forcing himself to breathe when Louis’ hand sank a half inch, still checking. Harry felt himself start to soften a little, and chalked it down to nerves, and knew Louis would understand, so he made his hips buck up a fraction, and Louis’ hand sank a bit lower.

 _This is it_ , Harry thought, his breath coming in heavily as Louis’ hand was just one more tiny bit away from his penis. _He’s_ –

_Harry’s dad kneeled over him, mumbling “I need this, I need this,” as Harry squirmed, uncomfortable and opening his mouth to say so._

_“D-Daddy, no,” Harry fumbled, and Harry’s dad looked up at him, his gray eyes emotional and brimming with tears. “Stop, Daddy, I don’t like that,” Harry tried again, starting to feel like his skin was too tight on him, everything was too hot and at the same time, Harry wanted his clothes back on him._

_“I’m so sorry, I need this,” Harry’s dad said, tears spilling over, and Harry panicked, pushing his hands away but his dad was stronger._

_Harry heard him growl and looked up into his dad’s face and immediately felt fear twisting his stomach, making breathing impossible. Harry felt his dad’s hands on his private bits and twisted away, trying to tear his eyes from the gaze of his father. “Daddy, stop!” Harry cried, shutting his eyes when he saw his father raise his hand at him._

“Shit, fuck, _touchtouchtouchtouch please stop it_ ,” Harry cried, shoving at Louis and pushing him away, scrambling off the bed and falling to the floor. Louis backed up immediately, crying out Harry’s name in alarm and made to follow after him, but Harry scrambled back, crawling on the floor backwards with tears in his eyes.

“Harry-”

Harry sobbed and shook his head frantically when Louis stood, and Harry escaped to Louis’ massive closet, opening the door to slide in and pushing it shut, pushing things out of his way as he huddled in the darkest corner. Harry curled up in a ball and sobbed loudly, fists pulling hair out and hating his shirtlessness and socklessness and shoelessness and jacketlessness at the same time as he was too hot and dying to be held and terrified to be touched. His father’s enraged eyes followed him everywhere in the closet, staring at him, and from every angle, Harry suddenly saw a hand raising to strike him. He flinched every time he blinked his eyes, swallowing.

Harry heard his name being called frantically, but he couldn’t answer because his breathing was too loud to understand what he wanted. _Him. Louis. Harry’s boyfriend, who loved him._

Harry pulled his hair and cried some more because as terrified and shaken as he was, he couldn’t tell Louis because his mouth didn’t work and _Harry hadn’t had a flashback since he was ten._

He pounded his fist into the wall and Louis’ voice silenced and Harry heard a breath that could possibly have been a sigh, and he panicked, terrified Louis was leaving. “ _Louis_?!” He cried out, his fingers stretching but otherwise unable to move.

“Harry, do you-” Louis’ voice was right outside the closet door and the door started to slide open, and Harry shrunk further again.

“No!” He cried out, “Don’t!”

Louis stayed where he was and shut the door again, but asked frantically, “Baby, tell me what to do, please, do I call your mum? Liam? What do you need? I’ll do it, I’ll do anything, I’m so sorry.”

Panic swelled more when Harry heard it in Louis’ voice, and his voice broke several times when he said, “Clothes, please, can you – clothes, I need them, all of them.”

There was a ruckus outside the closet, and Harry heart Louis searching frantically in his desperation to do what Harry needed and find all of his clothes. Moments later, Louis was back, breathing a little faster as he said, “Can I open the door to give them to you?”

Harry was quiet as his racing mind thought it through, and he said, “Don’t – don’t be there, when I get them,” he said, and heard Louis make a noise of confirmation, and Harry panicked when he thought it through: “But don’t go away,” he begged hastily, a sob tearing from his throat at the thought of being left alone with his father’s angry eyes and heavy hand in this too-big and too-hot closet.

“I won’t leave, I won’t ever leave,” Louis said firmly over and over again. He placed the clothes as close to the door as he could and slid it open, backing away a few feet, and Harry felt _watched_ as he slowly and hesitantly unfolded his limbs to snatch the clothes and move back to the corner. He left the door open, finding it was easier to breathe, the air in the room not as hot as the air in the closet and the weight of Louis’ gaze not as heavy as that of his father’s.

Fully dressed, Harry felt better, and some of the angry gray eyes disappeared as Harry mentally begged for Louis’ arms, too anxious to ask out loud for fear it would go wrong again and Louis would never touch Harry again.

Harry’s sobbing subsided eventually, and Louis’ sniffs came less frequently as Harry’s did. Harry suddenly felt tired and yet he knew it would be hours before he could sleep, so he scooted forward, just enough for Louis to see him clearly, still within the doorway of the closet.

“I’m sorry,” Harry apologized, his voice breaking.

“Don’t be; it’s not your fault,” Louis said immediately, and Harry only barely flinched when Louis made to crawl closer and checked himself immediately. Harry knew Louis had seen the flinch when he swallowed and closed his eyes, and Harry wanted to apologize all over again, though he knew Louis would never accept an apology for something that wasn’t Harry’s fault.

And Harry knew it wasn’t his fault. Or Louis’ fault.

But it didn’t make it easier, and it didn’t help him from feeling terrible for flinching from his own boyfriend.

“I – that hasn’t happened in like…six years,” Harry offered, anger coloring his breaking voice.

“What was it?” Louis asked, hushed, like Harry was a frightened and untamed little furry bunny, cornered and hurt in the forest and Louis wanted to save him.

Harry leaned against the wall of the closet, closing his eyes for a second, knowing Louis wouldn’t approach him and feeling safe in it. “Flashback,” he said finally, and opened his eyes when he heard Louis’ sharp inhale.

“I – did I hurt you?” Louis said, sounding frantic again, and Harry shook his head quickly.

“No, you – _no_ , you didn’t, Louis, I swear,” he said quickly. “It just – I think it – I think it was…your hand? Erm, not like – not like _your_ hand, but more like – more like, your _hand_ ,” Harry fumbled, gesturing to his groin. “And – erm, where it was. It’s – my, erm, my dad – he – you know… _there_.”

Louis’ nostrils flared and his eyes closed tightly, and Harry bit his lip, knowing he’d made Louis angry.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice quivering. Louis’ eyes opened, but Harry talked before he could. “I don’t know why my head thinks you’re him sometimes, Lou, but I know you’re not, I do. I don’t think that, not really – only like that, only then. And it’s – even now, it’s better, I promise, I’m – I think maybe I’m crazy or something, but I – I’m not, I promise I’m not.” Harry felt panic start to take hold again, and he started shaking his head, his eyes going wide as he breathed as slowly as he could to fight and stay calm. “I’m – please don’t leave because of – because of that. I know – I know you can’t – maybe not, maybe you probably shouldn’t touch me, like, there? But I’ll – I can still – I mean, I can…I’ll do you, that’s not – that’s not like, a _thing_ , probably, and you can still – I mean – please don’t be angry because my head thinks you’re him; I don’t – I – I don’t,” Harry started having trouble speaking when his breaths shuddered every few seconds, and Louis finally interrupted him.

“Baby, stop it, I’m not – I’m not angry, I swear. I’m not angry with you. I’m – mad at him, at your father, but never you. Never you, my sweet baby. I love you, and that’s it,” Louis said quietly, soothing.

Harry closed his eyes and let the words wash over him, nodding for Louis to keep talking. Louis complied, and eventually, Harry scooted just outside the closet. Harry and Louis locked eyes as Harry bit his lip and moved closer to Louis still, and Louis stayed blessedly still so he didn’t scare Harry off again.

When Harry was two feet from Louis, he stopped, and Louis smiled uncertainly, so Harry mirrored it. He wasn’t sure he was okay yet, not ready yet to be touched, but he wasn’t afraid of Louis.

After staring at each other in relative quiet, only sometimes speaking to say nice things to each other, Harry lay down on the soft carpet, keeping his distance of a foot-and-a-half. Louis copied, and they lay next to each other.

“I might fall asleep,” Louis warned, sounding apologetic.

“I might sleep next to you,” Harry said back, slowly reaching out to touch the tip of Louis’ index finger with his own. Louis smiled at the tiny contact, and Harry smiled back. “Try not to wrap around me, please,” he added suddenly.

“No,” Louis answered, shaking his head firmly. “Go sleep on the bed tonight; I don’t want to risk it.” Harry didn’t answer at first, and Louis added, “Please, Harry.”

Harry smiled quietly and nodded. “I’ll take care of it,” he vowed, and Louis nodded back, satisfied.

Some time later, when Harry knew Louis was about to fall asleep, when Harry was holding Louis’ hand, and Louis wasn’t squeezing back at all, Harry whispered, “I love you. …And I’m not afraid of you.”

Louis smiled again and nodded. “I love you, too,” he said, “and I’ll never give you a reason to be.”

Harry got up and grabbed a few pillows from Louis’ bed, bringing them over to where Louis lay. He passed a pillow over to Louis for his head, so his neck wouldn’t hurt, and used the rest to create a tiny little barrier Louis would have to fight to get over in his sleep. Harry lay as close to the barrier as he dared, his heart fluttering when he slowly took Louis’ hand and squeezed it tightly. Louis closed his eyes after he smiled, and Harry bit his lip again.

“Lou,” he whispered, tugging on Louis’ hand urgently.

Louis’ eyes snapped open, and in the glow from the lamp by the bed, Harry found the warm, soft, kind blue eyes he needed to block the angry gray ones out. Content, he smiled again. “Good night,” he said quietly. “I love you.”

Louis smiled sleepily, one finger twitching in what he had decided to risk instead of squeezing Harry’s hand. “I love you, too, my sweet baby.”

Harry sighed as the endearment washed over him, calming him from the inside out. Harry knew, remembering from years ago after he had flashbacks, that he’d be pretty shaken for a day or two, but touching again would get steadily easier as he stayed calm. And he was with Louis and he was safe. “Yours,” he answered in a sleepy sigh, his arm stretched across the pillow-bridge barrier, holding Louis’ hand as he fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya! So, it's Harry's birthday, and Louis drops Harry off first thing in the morning to be with his mum and Liam and Niall, who come over for breakfast and take him to school. Right after football practice, Liam and Niall take Harry out to dinner, where Liam confesses that he's had a bit of a talk with Louis, leveling, man to man kind of thing, and now Liam trusts Louis and they're trying to get to know each other so they can be actual friends.  
> Niall and Liam planned for Louis to take Harry to a ballet because Harry's always wanted to see one, so Louis shows up in a dashing suit to take Harry to see one. At the ballet, someone is proposed to and Harry has a sudden imagine of Louis proposing to him, in the future. Shocked by how quickly and easily the thought came to him, Harry realizes how much he loves Louis. They go home after the ballet and start having sexy times, and Harry asks Louis to touch him through his jeans. After making sure Harry's positive, Louis starts to, and Harry has a graphic flashback of what happened to him with his father - despite not having had one for years. In a panic, Harry scrambles to the farthest corner in Louis' closet, begging Louis not to come closer but also not to leave, as he's panicking and still needs Louis. Louis, of course, goes nowhere, and does everything Harry needs him to. Harry apologizes and Louis assures him he's not angry at Harry, but at his father, and that he loves Harry no matter what. Still shaken from the flashback+panic attack, Louis and Harry fall asleep on the floor with a pillow-barrier between them (so Louis wouldn't wrap around Harry during the night and make Harry panic again) feeling a little bit better and a little bit in love.


	22. Part 21.

Louis rubbed a hand over his face as he tried to make sense out of his anatomy assignment.

 _Hypertonic, hypotonic, isotonic, osmosis._ He knew the words, but they didn’t make sense like this.

_Was Harry going to be okay?_

Louis shook himself. _Anatomy, Louis; not Harry._

But after another fifteen minutes of the same battle over and over again, Louis gave up, groaning in disgust as he threw his pencil down and pushed back from his desk, heading over to the tools in the shop. Maybe he could organize something.

“What’s wrong, kid?” Andy asked, wiping his hands on his grease rag.

Louis sighed. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind today,” he said, wiping over his face again.

“Anything I can help with?”

Louis laughed hollowly. “Not unless you’re secretly a trauma therapist I could talk to under a confidentiality agreement,” he droned. He was about to apologize for his uncharacteristic depressive mood when Andy answered.

“Well, _I’m_ not…but my wife is.”

Louis’ head snapped around. “Really?” He asked, astonished.

Andy nodded. “Sure. Want me to give you her card?”

Louis swallowed as Andy started digging in his wallet. “I – yeah, if you could. That’d be – _thanks_ , mate –”

“Alright, alright,” Andy said gruffly as he handed the card over and pulled Louis in for a side-armed squeeze that nearly broke his ribs, “don’t get all girly on me. Give her a call, but she leaves her office at six on weekdays.”

Louis read the card and nodded. “Right, six,” he repeated to himself. “Thanks, Andy.”

“No problem. Now, go get your homework done, and get the hell away from my toolset.”

 ---

Harry sighed, loud and dramatic, for the fourth time.

“What’s wrong?” Louis asked, amused that Harry clearly wanted his attention and wouldn’t just ask for it.

Harry brightened instantly when Louis spoke to him, but he quickly returned to his pout. “Just – I, like, feel better, and everything,” he hedged.

Louis swallowed and nodded. “And…?” he prompted.

Harry huffed. “And I – like, I – was wondering, maybe, if you – if you wanted to – to come over here?”

Louis knew he’d probably gone overboard on his precautionary measurement. Since Harry had his flashback three days earlier, Louis hadn’t been closer to Harry than sitting next to him in the car. They’d held pinkies, still walking a considerable distance apart, and just yesterday, Harry had snuck in a kiss to Louis’ cheek when he thought Louis was asleep on the other side of the pillow barrier, but Louis was paranoid to touch Harry and scare him again. Even now, Harry sat on his bed, on one side of his room, and Louis sat at Harry’s desk, on the other. They hadn’t even really talked about it – Louis knew he _should_ talk to Harry about the flashback, but he didn’t want to push, and Harry certainly wasn’t offering up any information.

Louis watched Harry for body language that could possibly betray his words, and upon finding none, he set Harry’s laptop down to the wooden desk beneath it. “I’ve got an idea,” he said. “Let’s go to the Jungle.”

 ---

“We haven’t been here in _ages_ , it feels like!” Harry said as he hoisted himself up on the bed. It rocked under the movement and Louis held the frame still while Harry got comfortable, and then pushed it, slowly rocking it like a swing.

Harry watched Louis expectantly and then huffed when he realized Louis wasn’t going to come up on the bed. “Louis, you can get on the bed,” he said, exasperated.

Louis smiled. “No, I know,” he said soothingly. “Just want you to relax, is all.”

Harry crawled on his hands and knees towards Louis and stopped just in front of him. “I really want to kiss you,” he confessed.

“Kiss me, then,” Louis grinned.

“I’m allowed?” Harry said, surprised.

Louis laughed and nodded. “Of course you’re allowed, Harry,” he said. “I just don’t – I don’t want to do anything to scare you again, and I’m not sure how to touch you without doing that. You can do whatever you want, though.”

Harry bit his lip. “That – that sounds like – like I’m….in control, or something,” he said.

Louis nodded grimly, knowing Harry didn’t like being in charge.

“I don’t like that.”

Louis stayed quiet. He didn’t know what to say.

Harry huffed and backed up. “Come up here,” he said, patting the bed. When Louis hesitated, Harry raised his eyebrows reproachfully. “You _said_ I was in charge,” he said, and Louis had to laugh.

“Alright, alright,” he chuckled, taking off his shoes and shimmying up onto the bed.

Louis sat on the bed and Harry scooted directly in front of him, folding his legs and moving closer until their knees touched. Louis held his breath, but Harry seemed entirely unaffected.

Harry held his hands up, fingers spread out wide and palms facing Louis. “Here,” Harry said, pushing his hands towards Louis. “Your hands,” he said, when Louis looked confused.

Louis put his hands to Harry’s, fingers out and palms flat. Harry’s fingers were a little longer and thinner than his, but Louis paid more attention to the look of calm on Harry’s face.

“You were just concerned about me, past few days,” Harry said with a smile, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe it.

“Of course,” Louis answered, a frown taking over his face. “I’m always thinking about you.”

Harry laughed breathily, a sigh coming out on the tail end of it. “I thought – you stopped _touching_ me.” Harry swallowed and licked his lips, watching his fingers as they slotted between Louis’ and folded over his hands. “I thought you were gonna finish me,” he admitted, swallowing tightly.

Louis’ eyes widened and he folded his fingers over Harry’s hands, too. “Harry,” he said, but Harry interrupted, shaking his head.

“No, I – I mean, who wants to date that boy who can’t even – can’t even stand to have a hand on his – on his p-penis – through his jeans? Like, who – who wants that?” He shook his head again and tightened his fingers. “I don’t – I don’t let myself feel _sorry_ , or whatever, like – I don’t do the self-pity thing. I don’t. I don’t like it, and I – I know you don’t think of me as _the boy who got messed with_ , or whatever. But it’s still – it still means there’s – like, I’m –” Harry let go of Louis’ hand and ran fingers through his hair, frustrated.

Louis took over, grabbing Harry’s hand back. “Harry, I don’t want to finish you,” he said quickly. “I’m gone over you, it’s pathetic almost. It’s not – I don’t, like, want that. To finish you, I mean. Just so you know. …And I don’t think anything, like, _bad_ about you, because of what happened when you were little. That’s nothing to do with who you are now. I mean, it has a little bit, but not where it counts. Not where I care about. You’re still _Harry_ , and I still _love you_.”

Harry smiled down at their joined hands and brought a hand up to his face, letting Louis cup his cheek and rub a thumb over his skin. “I love you, too,” he said quietly.

They sat quietly for a while, just staring, and Louis thought of all the things he should say, but he didn’t know where to start. Finally, he settled on, “I was giving you space.” When Harry looked confused, Louis laughed shortly and elaborated. “After the flashback-thing, I was giving you space. I didn’t – I mean, you said it was, like, me touching you there, but I didn’t want to, like…risk it. I didn’t want to risk touching you and scaring you or hurting you. God, Harry, that’s the last thing I ever want to do, is scare you or hurt you. I never want to make you feel that way, ever. I wasn’t upset with you, or even with myself. I was just giving you space. I didn’t know what to do, or how to fix it, and I just – I thought giving you loads of space would.”

Harry untangled their fingers and scooted back, smiling as he pulled at Louis’ ankles, spreading his legs out, laughing and apologizing quietly when Louis nearly toppled over and had to put his hands on the bed for balance. When his legs were spread wide, Harry turned around and scooted backwards, so his back was pressed to Louis’ chest. Louis stayed still, and Harry slowly grabbed his hands and wrapped Louis’ arms loosely around him, relaxing back into Louis’ embrace.

Louis fought to stay still, and Harry laughed at him. “ _Relax_ ,” he said. “I’m alright. I’ll tell you if I start to get, like…uncomfortable. But I’m – a lot better now. We can do all the same stuff as before; just not – you know, not –”

“That’s fine,” Louis assured Harry quickly, rocking them side to side. Harry leaned his head against Louis’ shoulder, and Louis rest his head against Harry’s. “We don’t have to go there,” Louis promised.

Harry stopped rocking. “It’s – I want to go there again,” Harry protested quietly. “Like – I mean, probably we can’t ever – you probably can’t ever, like, give me a – erm, a h-handjob. Probably. But there’s other things we can do,” he rushed.

Louis squeezed tight, just a little, and nodded against Harry’s head. “I know,” he said. “That’s what I meant. I don’t have to do that, if you’re not comfortable with it. There’s other ways to make you feel good, and when we get there, we can try those. For now…how about we just ease back into our usual stuff, hmm?”

Harry breathed out a sigh of relief and nodded, burrowing himself closer back against Louis. “I meant it, though,” Harry said quietly, “about being better, now? I’m – you can, like…you can kiss me and – and I liked what we – before the, erm, flashback? Where I had my – where my shirt was off, and yours? I, erm. I liked…that.”

Louis could feel Harry’s blush through the sleeve of his shirt, where Harry’s face was rested. “Okay,” Louis said, nodding. “So, you’re – I could kiss you, like, right now, and you’d be fine?” He checked.

“Yeah,” Harry answered, already shifting hopefully around to face Louis a little more. “Yeah, I’m – I’m good for that. We can – all of it, as long as you don’t – I mean, you can’t –” He blushed, gesturing to his crotch.

Louis pressed a finger against Harry’s lips. “Hey,” he said softly, “I’m not going to touch you there, alright? I won’t, unless you ask for it, okay?”

Wide-eyed, Harry nodded, and Louis hesitated only a second before he leaned down and pressed his lips to Harry’s. Harry’s hands fumbled around to find Louis’ and held them tight, pressing his lips back to Louis’.

Louis’ eyebrows shot up, though his eyes stayed closed, when he felt Harry’s lips engulf his top lip, but Louis got the message – _kiss me for real_ – and obliged, kissing Harry back, sucking lightly at his puffy bottom lip.

 ---

Louis swallowed hard and knocked on his mum’s office door.

“Come in,” his mum called, and Louis pushed the door open and peered around the door.

“Do you have a minute?” He asked, screwing his face into hopefulness to increase his chances.

“Erm, sure,” his mum said, pulling off her reading glasses and closing random books, stacking papers places. “Have a seat,” she offered, gesturing vaguely to the chair.

Louis shut the door and sat down, clasping his hands in his lap as he waited for her to situate herself.

Eventually, she sighed and smiled ruefully at him. “What’s up, buttercup?” She asked playfully.

Louis grinned back before he broached the subject. “It’s – I wanted to talk to you,” he said slowly, “about the whole…divorce…thing.”

The playfulness drained from Jay’s face and she took a deep breath, caught off guard. “Oh,” she said, surprised. “Well, then.”

“…Yeah,” Louis said lamely. They sat in quiet for a moment until Jay spoke.

“Alright, well. What did you want to talk about?”

Louis shifted in his seat as he thought about _approach_. “It’s – alright, so, I know that, with Mark leaving, and everything, that we’ll lose, like, a lot of money, obviously. And that you’ll have to start working a lot more, and all of that, and I –” Louis took a deep breath. “I’ve…gotten a job. At an autoshop in town. And I’ve also…got a new bank. A small, private one, a few towns over in the next city. I’ve emptied my bank account and put it all into private funds, now that I’m eighteen. They’ve got a decent rate, and it’s strictly location-only banking, so it’s, like…really secure.” Jay was looking at Louis like he’d grown an extra head or two, and Louis sighed. “Mum, it’s for us, right? I had to make a checking and savings and split the money from my old account into both of them so it would transfer faster. It’s kind of a long process to get started there, but only because it’s so secure and everything. I looked all of it up and I took a lot of time into this. I wanted somewhere that nobody could access my money.”

Jay shook her head. “Louis, why are you going through all of this?” she asked tiredly.

Louis sat straighter. “Because I want to take care of you girls, Mum,” he said incredulously, not believing his mother didn’t understand it. “I – he’s taking away a lot of money, and that’s money you and the girls deserve, but you signed that prenup and won’t see a dime of it! But my money is _mine_ , and I had access to it, so I took advantage of it. I want you to do the same thing. I think you should drain your account and move it. It doesn’t have to be the same place as mine, but it can be. And only you can access it, unless you give explicit, like, statements or whatever for anyone else. I just think it’s a good idea.”

Jay nodded slowly, eyes to the ceiling as she thought it over. “So you want me to drain my account – which Mark filled, mostly – and get a new bank and set up private accounts that Mark can’t touch.”

“Yes,” Louis said, sighing gratefully.

“Why?”

Louis wanted to bang his head on the table. “Mum!” he moaned. “It’s about survival. Protection. Do you really want to have to down-size, take double or triple or whatever shifts just to make ends meet, and leave Lottie to look after the other girls night and day because you’re away at work and can’t afford a sitter?”

Jay sighed. “Alright,” she said finally, “I get your point. For the record, though, loads of single mothers get by on a nurse’s salary.”

“In a house like _this_ , with _four_ daughters still in school?” Louis raised his eyebrows, crossing his arms over his chest.

Jay smiled reluctantly. “Point taken,” she gave in. “I’ll think about it, alright? I mean, I’ll do it, but I’ll think about banks. Promise.”

Louis smiled and got up out of his chair, crossing behind the desk and hugged his mother. “I love you so much, Mum,” he whispered. “I’ll always love you.”

Jay hugged him back tightly and kissed his temple. “I’ll always love you, too, baby.”

 ---

“I just don’t know if I’m going to tell Louis yet.”

Louis paused outside Harry’s bedroom door, caught off guard by what he’d just heard his boyfriend say.

“No, it’s – no, he’d be totally supportive of it; it was his idea in the first place. …I just – we’ve had some…erm… _delicate_ topics come up lately, and I don’t want to – to make him think he’s the reason, or anything.”

Louis was utterly confused, by now. _What could Harry possibly be talking about?_

“It was _in_ his _wallet_ , Li. _Clearly_ , that means something? …Yeah, well – oh, hey, I’ve got to go, Li. I’ve just seen his car in the drive; he’ll be up here any minute. Alright, thanks, mate. …Love you, too…bye. Bye.”

Louis hesitated before he quietly climbed down a few steps on the staircase, turning around and thundering up them, calling out enthusiastically. “Hazza, I’m here!”

Harry met Louis at the door with a tight hug and a smile, and Louis hugged him back distractedly.

“Hi,” Harry breathed out in a smile when he leaned back, looking directly into his eyes happily.

Louis felt himself smile in an automatic reflex. “Hi,” he answered around his grinning lips.

They stared at each other happily for a minute before Harry snapped out of it and blushed, muttering, “Erm, yeah, come – come in,” and opening the door to his room to let Louis slide past.

They pulled out homework, and Harry sat in Louis’ lap with his maths homework while Louis read on his Literature assignment, another Shakespearian work. As he finished the first scene assigned, he noticed Harry started squirming a lot. He glanced down at his boyfriend in question, but Harry only blushed and refocused on his homework.

Louis decided to ignore it and went back to reading the play, only to be interrupted by Harry’s fidgeting again.

Sighing, Louis put down his book. “Babe?” He asked. “Everything alright?”

Harry squirmed and nodded stubbornly; Louis recognized the set of Harry’s jaw and sighed.

“Yeah,” Harry said a little too casually, “I’m great, thanks; how’re you?”

“Harry,” Louis said disapprovingly.

“What?” Harry asked innocently, widening his eyes and puffing out his lips just enough to be noticeable.

“Don’t treat me like a teacher or something,” Louis said irritably. “Is something on your mind?”

Harry bit his lip and stared at Louis, giving no answer.

Louis sighed and gently moved around until Harry was off his lap. He started packing up his books, feeling Harry’s confused eyes on him.

“W-where are you going?” Harry asked softly.

Louis stood and stretched his back before he muttered, “I think I’m just gonna go home.”

“No!” Harry said, flinging himself forward.

Louis nearly swore as Harry’s lurch sent them both to the floor, Harry on top of Louis. “Harry, _what_ are you doing?” Louis demanded.

“I don’t want you to go,” Harry said obstinately.

“Harry, you’re being ridiculous,” Louis snapped, sighing when he saw the hurt expression on Harry’s face. Louis rubbed a hand down his face and breathed deeply before he let his hand drop and opened his eyes to look at Harry, who was still watching him with the hurt expression.

Louis gently took Harry’s chin between his index finger and thumb and pulled Harry down into a kiss. “I’m sorry,” Louis said quietly once the chaste kiss was over.

“Me, too,” Harry said, and leaned down for another kiss.

Louis kissed Harry back, his hands on Harry’s face, his thumbs sweeping over Harry’s cheek. Louis’ eyebrows rose when he felt Harry’s tongue hesitantly making contact with his lip, but he opened his mouth and met Harry’s tongue with his own.

Harry sighed into Louis’ mouth and Louis smiled into the kiss when he felt Harry’s chest press flat against his, Harry getting closer to deepen the kiss.

Louis broke the kiss to get a breath and Harry started shifting, moving around so he was on top of Louis with his legs on either side of Louis’ hips, and Louis swallowed when Harry bent his curly head towards Louis’ neck, hesitating only a brief second before quickly pressing a kiss to Louis’ neck. Louis hummed in comfort at the contact, and Harry, still bent close to Louis’ neck, let out a shaky breath near his ear.

“Do – do you like that?” Harry asked, his voice shaking a little.

Louis hummed and nodded, and Harry huffed out a breath before Louis felt lips pressing against his throat again, soft and eventually evolving into harder ones, a little wet and Louis’ eyes shot open when he felt Harry sucking lightly at his neck.

Louis groaned and Harry shifted again, his body rubbing fully against Louis’, getting closer to better reach Louis’ bared skin. Louis’ hands slid into Harry’s hair as he moaned softly, and Harry’s hips grinded against Louis’ when Louis tugged lightly on the curls.

_Knock, knock._

Louis and Harry flew apart, Louis frantically brushing his hair back into place and Harry frantically wiping at his lips. The door opened and Anne came in, looking between the two of them for a few seconds. Louis saw the moment it clicked, what they’d been doing, because her eyes went wide and her mouth formed a slight ‘o’, and her cheeks pinked up.

“Oh – sorry, I’ll –”

She made to leave, but Harry scrambled up to stop her, and Louis protested, “No, you’re fine.”

Harry stood in front of her and touched her shoulder. “What’s up, mum?” He asked, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Oh, I – I just, erm, wanted to – to tell you,” she said to Harry, her hands fidgeting absentmindedly, “that I – I called Robin? And, erm. And I’m going to have dinner with him. Tomorrow night.”


	23. Part 22.

Harry pushed himself down the field, his cleats digging into the rain-softened ground slowing his purchase. He kept up easily with Louis, these days, and as he kept an eye to stay roughly parallel with his teammate and swerved around the Skins, he noticed one of the Skins coming at Louis from an angle Louis couldn’t see, ready to steal the ball.

“Louis! Pass!” Harry shouted.

Thankful Louis trusted Harry instantaneously the way Harry did him, Harry received the pass and immediately faked left and twisted right, confusing another Skin in front of him. He ran a few more yards and aimed, kicking the ball as hard as he could and sending it flying into the upper-left corner of the goal post.

The Shirts all cheered, and even a few of the Skins clapped Harry’s shoulder, but Harry just grinned towards the ground as he jogged back to his place, not wanting to waste a second of practice. Their first real match was in less than a week, and with the knowledge that he’d be starting, Harry was more than a little nervous.

“That’s what I want, Styles! That’s a hustle I wanna see!”

Harry looked towards the scream and saw his coach clapping his clipboard vigorously, a vein in his throat becoming pronounced as he shouted words of praise to Harry. Harry made eye contact and dipped his head with a smile, acknowledging the praise without brown-nosing.

Once everything was set up and everyone was in their places, Coach blew the whistle and Louis nudged the ball with his toe, waiting to see how the Skins reacted. Harry let his muscles tense as he waited along with them, only moving once Louis passed the ball left to Stan. Harry stayed level with them as he received a fake pass and dodged a few Skins who fell for it, only to receive a real one seconds later and do the same thing again.

“Harry, I’m open!”

Harry glanced up once and saw Louis, wide open just like he said, and passed right before one of the Skins tackled him. Harry huffed at the impact and he and his teammate scrambled up, grimacing at the new bruises surely forming, and when Harry saw how far down-field Louis had gotten, he grumbled to himself and shot off as quickly as he could, receiving one more pass and sending it flying over to Stan, who then made the goal.

Harry cheered as he jogged back to his spot, lifting his shirt to wipe at his sweating face and running straight into his coach, who had walked on the field.

“Oh, sorry, Coach,” Harry said as he righted himself, but the man didn’t even seem to recognize it.

“Styles, I like the hustle you’re showing,” he said tersely. Harry nodded wordlessly and he continued, “You’re reliable. You listen to your teammates without fail. I like that.” Harry nodded again, and his coach clapped him on his back enough to hurt a little. “Keep it up, son,” he said, before walking back off the field.

Harry smiled to himself and jogged back into place, next to Louis, who was looking at him curiously, but Harry gave him a wink and Coach blew the whistle, and they were off.

The next round, the second strings had a few goes at it, but Harry was too keyed up to sit on the bench with the rest of the starters, so he hopped up and jogged to get a football from the equipment bag next to his coach, staying silent like it would keep the coach from seeing.

When he returned to the bench area, Louis was pouring a water bottle over his head and down his throat, shivering at the cold and gasping in the late February air. Harry stumbled over his own feet, blushing when Stan saw and laughed at him.

Louis wiped his face and walked over to where Harry was juggling the ball and stole it, catching Harry off-guard. Harry stole it back with some struggle, and Louis grinned. “Wanna play our game?” He offered, and Harry was once again glad Louis could seemingly read his mind and understand somehow that Harry didn’t want to rest quite yet. Harry nodded, grinning, and Louis passed him the ball.

The game was simple: pass the ball to each other, but only through keepy-uppies. They were allowed one bounce as a freebie, but whoever dropped the ball twice lost and had to run a quarter-mile.

Harry received the pass and chipped it up, and Louis rushed forward and kneed it up twice, letting it drop to his ankle and balancing it before lifting it off to Harry. Harry backed up and let it hit his chest, dropping to his knee and then to his foot, where he kicked it up twice before he got the momentum to pass it back to Louis. The pass arced high, so Louis jogged back and head-butted it and let it fall to his ankle immediately after, passing it over to Harry. The pass fell short and Harry had to dive to head-butt it, sending it shooting back over to Louis, who let it hit his chest before juggling it with his knees to allow Harry to get up from the ground. When he was up, Louis kicked it back over to Harry and Harry received it with grace, stopping the ball on his ankle and balancing it before his core gave out and he fell over. On the way down, he kicked the ball up, and Louis ran as fast as he could, but it bounced twice before he could get to it. Louis muttered a swear word and Harry laughed from his back on the ground, making Louis join in as he made his way to help Harry up.

Suddenly, Louis looked at his watch and swore. “I’m late for work,” he said urgently, touching Harry’s hand as a _good-bye_ and then sprinting off to the showers.

Alone, Harry kicked the ball lazily, circling it around his feet, feeling a little bored. He looked around and found the wall in front of the bleachers, and kicked the ball over to it and began practicing receiving hard passes by shooting the football to the wall and adjusting his body angle to receive the reflected blow when the ball hit off the wall.

“Need some help?”

Harry startled and missed the next bounce back, turning to see Stan behind him with the ball already at his feet.

“Didn’t mean to scare you, mate,” Stan laughed.

Harry blushed and laughed back. “It’s alright,” he said. “Erm, yeah, if you don’t mind?”

Stan shrugged and backed up, taking the ball with him, and passed it. “What are you working on?” He called across the distance.

It was hard to hear him over the whistles and shouts of his teammates on the field, but Harry understood and called back, “Receiving hard passes. I’m still pretty bad at it sometimes; I don’t know why.”

Stan received Harry’s next pass, nodding, and fired the football to him. Harry tensed as he decided where the ball was going to go, shuffling to the right quickly to get a leg out and stop it. The ball dropped and bounced, and Harry couldn’t get his foot on it to stop it or control it for a few seconds – and in a game, that could be detrimental. He growled, frustrated, when he finally got control of it, and passed it back to Stan, who received it perfectly, taking the ball at his shin and letting it neatly drop. Exactly the way Louis did it. Exactly the way Harry wanted to.

Stan passed it again, and Harry did the same thing, tensing until he found the ball’s destination, receiving it, but instead of dropping neatly or even bouncing, it bounced off his ankle and rolled in front of him, far enough that Harry had to jog to get it back.

Taking a few deep breaths – Louis always said a temper was a stupid thing to have when you’re learning and practicing – Harry gained possession again and passed it to Stan, who received it on a jog towards Harry. Harry stayed where he was and Stan met him, bending to pick up the ball in his hands.

“Want me to tell you what you’re doing, or are you one of those figure-it-out-yourself kind of players?” He asked, rolling the ball in his hands.

“No, I’ll take whatever you’ve got to give,” Harry admitted on a sigh.

Stan grinned. “It’s nice to see lower-classmen let their pride take a beating.” Before Harry could answer, maybe protest that his pride was never a problem, or something, he set the ball down, let it bounce once, and then stepped on it to stop its movement and trap it under his cleat. “You have to absorb the shock of the pass. When you receive the pass, you’re sticking your leg out to do what?”

Stan seemed to wait for an answer, so Harry said uncertainly, “Erm, stop the ball?”

“Right,” Stan said, nodding, “but you’re tense when you do it. Sure, it stops the ball from going that way,” he said, gesturing past Harry, “but it bounces off or bounces down and you lose control. Have you ever seen baseball players catch their ball bare-handed?” Harry nodded, eyebrows furrowing. “Well, the only way they can do that without breaking their hand is because they give.”

When Harry stared blankly at Stan, Stan sighed and bent over and picked up the football, backed away a few feet, and stood still. Suddenly, he said, “Think fast!” and threw the football to Harry.

Harry caught it, his hands jerking back with the force of the throw.

“Exactly!” Stan said. “Did you notice how your hands moved a little when you caught it? You absorbed the shock. Get it?”

This time, Harry nodded, understanding. “So, I just have to do that when I receive the pass,” he said, letting it dawn on him. Stan nodded and they both backed up farther, Harry kicking him the ball.

Stan fired the ball at him and Harry tensed until he located the ball’s course, throwing his leg out and letting it swing back a little when the ball hit his thigh. To Harry’s astonishment, the ball dropped nearly harmlessly to the ground, and Harry was able to control it much faster.

“Good, mate!” Stan called, clapping. Harry beamed.

—-

Harry shifted nervously in his seat as he filled out his charts.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Liam asked from the seat next to Harry’s.

Harry nodded, his fingers fidgeting, twirling the pen around. “Yeah,” he said, swallowing. “Yeah, I think – I think I should.”

Liam didn’t argue anymore, and Harry sighed in relief. “Do you want me to come with you?” Liam offered.

Harry smiled apologetically as he shook his head. “I – no, I’m sorry,” he said a little sheepishly.

“It’s fine, Harry,” Liam assured him with a warm smile, “I just want you to be comfortable in this.”

“I am,” Harry said, assuring Liam and trying to assure himself. They fell silent, Harry filling out his paperwork and Liam scrolling uselessly on his phone. “Hey, Li?” Harry blurted out.

Liam looked up at Harry curiously, eyebrows raised. “Yeah, mate?”

Harry gave himself a few seconds to look at his best mate and be grateful for how lucky he was to have Liam. “Thanks for bringing me,” Harry said quietly.

Liam blinked and then coughed, looking down and then back up at Harry, smiling. “Oh – you’re welcome, mate,” he said sincerely, clapping Harry on the shoulder.

“Harry Styles?”

Harry and Liam looked around to see a tiny twig of a woman standing in a doorway, looking around for the patient.

“Harry Styles?” She repeated.

Harry stood. “I – erm, that’s – that’s me,” he said quietly as he walked towards her, mindful of the other people in the room as his cheeks flamed.

The woman smiled politely and nodded, pushing the door open and walking through it. “If you’d follow me,” she said, and Harry did, wiping his hands nervously on his jeans.

Harry was led to an empty room, with the receptionist saying, “She’ll be right in, Harry,” and pulling the door to behind her. Harry looked around curiously, sitting on the edge of a chair, placing the papers he’d been filling out in his lap.

The room wasn’t big, but it housed a decent-sized desk, adorned with a few photos, a small desk fountain with rocks and running water, sat next to a tray filled with sand and a few small rocks with a rake next to it, making a tiny little zen garden. The chair behind the desk was comfy-looking, much like the chair Harry was perching on, and there was a portable fan in the corner of the room quietly blowing cool air around the room.

The door opened and a tall woman with blonde hair walked in, a smile revealing laugh lines and crows’ feet, her skin looking inelastic and slightly weathered. Her eyes were a gray-green and her hair was down and wavy, reaching just past her shoulders. She walked towards Harry with a hand outstretched. “Harry? I’m Karen; it’s great to meet you,” she said with a smile as she shook Harry’s hand.

“Hi, Karen, I’m – well, I’m Harry,” Harry said awkwardly, blushing as he stumbled through his greeting.

Karen stayed smiling and let go of Harry’s hand, gesturing to his seat as she moved to sit in her own. “If you want to have a seat, we can just go over a few things…did you get to finish all of those papers?”

Harry nodded and handed them over to her and sat silently as she glanced through them, nodding to herself as she read. After a while, Karen looked up from the papers and smiled at Harry.

“Alright,” she said quietly before rummaging around in her desk and pulling out a tape recorder. “This is my tape recorder,” she said easily, patting the clunky device. “I record the sessions and play them back later for note-taking, that way I can give you my full attention while we’re here. Nobody else hears them; I listen to them with headphones, and everything. Is that alright? If it makes you uncomfortable, I can just take notes now.”

Harry shook his head. “No, that’s fine,” he said, and then bit his lip. “I mean – as long as – well, it’s just that I _know_ Andy? Like, my, erm, boyfriend works with him, and – and Andy doesn’t know this stuff and I don’t really want Louis knowing I’m here – I mean, not yet, at least.”

Karen listened and didn’t interrupt Harry, and when he fell awkwardly silent, she nodded. “Don’t worry,” she said with a smile, “I don’t let _anyone_ hear these. Not my kids or husband, not my secretary, not even my cat. When I’m done with sessions for the day, I plug in headphones and play them back, and I take notes and those stay locked up in a safe every night, and only I have the key code to it. Doctor/patient confidentiality is a big deal to me.”

Harry thought over her words and nodded finally, relaxing and allowing a small, shy smile to build on his face. “Alright, then,” he accepted.

Karen smiled. “Ready, then?” She asked. When Harry nodded, she pressed record and announced clearly, “Styles, Harry, session one.”

—-

Harry thanked Liam as he got out of his mate’s car, patting the hood and watching Liam drive away, waving. He took a deep breath and turned around, heading into the mechanic’s shop.

“Harry, m’boy,” Paul greeted, and Louis’ head whipped up from his textbook at the service desk, smiling through his glasses. Andy echoed a greeting, and Harry smiled and waved awkwardly to them as he made his way to the desk, pulling up a chair and dumping his bag on the desk.

Louis smiled and leaned over the desk to give Harry a quick smooch, making Andy wolf-whistle and Harry blush. Louis laughed and gave Andy a joking middle finger before turning around to smile at Harry. “Hi, you,” he said.

“Hi, there,” Harry answered, grinning.

“How was your appointment?” Louis asked, setting down his pencil to give Harry his full attention.

Harry felt a twinge of guilt for lying – saying he had a doctor’s appointment (just a routine physical) instead of just saying he was going to therapy – but he brushed if off, answering brightly, “It was good. Just, you know, same old, same old.” Louis grimaced sympathetically and Harry, at a loss and looking for a subject change, said excitedly, “Oh, guess what?”

“What’s up, buttercup?”

Harry rolled his eyes at Louis’ silliness and said, “I think I finally got down receiving hard passes!”

Louis blinked and then beamed. “That’s great, babe!” he said supportively.

Harry nodded. “Yeah, after you left, Stan came up and talked about catching baseballs and shock and stuff.” Louis looked confused, but Harry waved his hand in dismissal. “It made sense; don’t worry about it. The important thing is, like – I can do it most of the time, now!”

Harry opened up his bag and started digging out his history homework, and when he looked back up at Louis, he saw Louis was already looking at him with that _face_ , like he was just stupidly happy, or something. Harry blushed and looked down at his history book, fumbling to open it to the right page as he cleared his throat. “Erm, yeah – the, erm, important thing is I can do it, and, erm, Coach will, like, be happy about it,” he tripped out.

“Oh, right, what did he say to you earlier? I forgot to ask when we were practicing, just me and you,” Louis grimaced.

Harry thought back to what his coach had said and then said, “Oh, right – Coach basically said, like, he liked my hustle, and that he likes the way I listen. And that I’m reliable. Oh, and to keep it up. And he called me son.”

Louis giggled and reached to tickle the back of Harry’s hand with his index finger idly. Harry blushed, because Niall had said before that when Louis did things like that, it was just an excuse to touch him.

“Well, I’m glad,” Louis said. “It’s about time Coach starts to really take a lot of interest in you. I like that.”

Harry grinned. “Me, too,” he laughed.

They quieted down eventually and did their homework, the sounds of the air compressor and jacks and drills going off every five seconds and the occasional grunts and swear words from Paul and Andy – and the occasional phone call, answered by Louis – having already become familiar background noise that Harry could easily concentrate in.

Near the end of Louis’ shift, Harry started packing up and Louis said, “Wanna go to the Jungle, or something?”

Harry crinkled his nose, hating to turn down the offer, but – “I think we should just go back to mine? Mum’s got dinner with Robin tonight, and I kind of want to be home when she gets back?” He screwed his face up hopefully.

Louis just shrugged and nodded, smiling complacently. “Sounds fine by me,” he accepted easily. When he clocked out, they bid farewell to Andy and Paul and left the shop, getting into the car and heading to Harry’s.

—-

Harry sat on the bathroom counter, confused as he watched his mum smudge the eyeliner she’d spent ten minutes on applying perfectly straight and evenly.

“It’s just dinner; there’s no reason to get all flustered,” Anne said, but Harry thought she probably was talking more to herself than to him.

He nodded anyway. “You’re right,” he said helpfully. “It’s just a dinner. Just dinner with a guy you’re crazy about. No big deal.”

Anne paused her smudging and looked at Harry, her eyes going wide. “Oh, God, is this a big deal?” She asked.

Harry was out of his depth. “No, Mum,” he scrambled to reassure her, “it’s just a dinner! You’ve gone to _loads_ of dinners with Robin before! This is just like that.”

Anne fidgeted with her smudgy-tool on her eyeliner pencil. “Except the last time we had dinner, I broke up with him and told him not to contact us again,” she mumbled sheepishly.

Harry resisted the urge to facepalm in front of his mum and instead replied, “Yes, but me and Lou talked to him over that dinner, and now, he totally gets it, and he was, like…fine with it. Seriously, Mum, you’re gonna be _fine_. Just stop worrying.”

When she finished her hair and makeup, she opened the door and peeked around the edge, making sure Louis was still shut up in Harry’s room, as she was in nothing but her slip. She scurried to her bedroom and went into her closet, and Harry followed, falling back and lounging on her bed.

Anne emerged from her messy closet seconds later carrying three separate hangers. “Which one?” She asked, harried.

Completely befuddled, Harry suggested, “The – I like the gold one.”

Anne looked at the middle hanger, which held a gold tea-length dress with a (respectably-cut) scoop neck and straps, not too tight but still showing her curves. She smiled at Harry and said, “You just like it because it doesn’t show anything.”

Harry laughed and nodded, adding defensively, “It looks good on you, too!”

Rolling her eyes, Anne disappeared into her closet and got dressed.

The doorbell rang, and Anne swore, shocking Harry. “Harry, can you get that for me?” She asked urgently.

Harry hopped up from the bed and hustled downstairs, opening the door for Robin, only to realize he was now alone with him.

Harry backed up immediately, swallowing and fighting to keep the smile on his face in response to Robin’s happy-yet-slightly-nervous greeting. Robin seemed confused when Harry continued stepping back from him, but Harry noticed his eyes flicker around before he said, “Where’s Louis, then?” He stood right inside the door, leaving it open, and didn’t make a move towards Harry, folding his hands behind his back.

“He’s – erm – I…” Harry took a deep breath and swallowed, clearing his throat before he stood tall, looking as brave as he could (despite not feeling it) and lied, “He’s just in the kitchen, right there,” gesturing towards the room.

Harry thought Robin probably knew he was lying, but he nodded and said nothing, staying still except for the slight rocking back and forth. They were both quiet for a moment, and Robin then asked, “So, how’s football coming along?”

Harry felt a light sweat break across his forehead when Robin started aimlessly swinging his arms back and forth. Scratching the back of his neck, he raised his voice to carry through the house and said, “Oh, it’s coming great, Robin, thanks. How’s work doing, Robin? How’ve you been, Robin?”

Robin took it all in stride, a slight widening of the eyes initially at Harry’s tone the only giveaway that he’d noticed anything unusual. Above him, Harry heard Louis spring off the bed and open the door to his room. Seconds later, he heard Louis’ feet coming down the stairs, while Robin answered politely.

Harry jumped slightly when he felt a hand snake around his waist, only to relax completely when he smelled _Louis_.

“Hey, Robin!” Louis greeted in the awkward silence, making Harry aware that he never replied to Robin talking about his work.

“Hey, Louis; how’re you?” Robin said slowly. Cautiously.

“I’m great, and you?” Louis said.

“Never better, thanks,” Robin answered. “I was just telling Harry, here, about my company’s decision to expand and merge with one of our biggest competitors.”

“That’s great, Robin,” Harry said, already feeling a little guilty for not listening earlier. “Do you – would you like to come in, and sit down, and stuff? Mum’s still on _shoes_ ,” he laughed, feeling much more relaxed, now that he wasn’t alone with Robin.

Robin seemed to understand, because he looked between Harry and Louis only once before he nodded, smiling genuinely for the first time. “I would; thanks,” he accepted, and Harry grabbed Louis’ hand tightly as they made their way into the living room.

Robin took the arm chair, and Louis and Harry curled together on a loveseat, and they all chatted aimlessly until Anne came down the stairs. Robin stood quickly as soon as Anne entered the room, and Harry smiled into Louis’ collar when Anne blushed, greeting him a little shyly.

“You look beautiful,” Robin said sincerely, and reached out to Anne, pulling her in for a hug. He whispered something in her ear, and Harry smiled when Anne’s arms tightened around Robin and she murmured something in response.

They left a few minutes later, with Anne kissing both Harry and Louis’ cheeks and telling them not to wait up. Ordinarily, Harry would be put off by that, but he figured Anne and Robin probably had a lot to talk about, so he let it slide. (Plus, his mum looked _really_ happy to be holding Robin’s hand again.)

—-

“So, wait – if _x_ is pi, then you multiply it by seven, right here, and then then divide by three, subtract two to get it on the other side, round to the nearest hundredth, and so _z_ is – five point three three?” Harry looked up from his paper to Louis, who was looking over Harry’s shoulder at his paper, and smiled when Louis nodded.

“Good,” Louis said as Harry did a victory fist pump and packed up his maths work. “You’re getting faster at these,” he added.

Harry blushed, and then grimaced. “If only I could do the same with stupid _balancing chemical equations_ ,” he grumbled bitterly as he glared at his chemistry textbook, next to Louis’ leg.

Louis laughed. “I can help, if you want me to,” he offered. “If I ever finish this stupid paper, that is,” he added.

“When’s it due?” Harry asked curiously, shifting to look over Louis’ argumentative paper on the best symbolic writer of the Middle Ages.

Louis shrugged. “Not ‘til the end of March,” he said.

“Oh, well that’s good,” Harry said, a sly grin starting to curve his lips up.

“Oh yeah?” Louis asked, looking over his paper. “Why’s that?” he asked absently.

Harry leaned in close, kissing Louis’ cheek, and whispered close to his ear, “’Cause I want you on top of me,” he said, proud of himself for managing to control the shake in his voice for the most part (and decidedly ignoring his blush).

Louis shoved his books and paper off his lap and shifted immediately, crowding Harry and kissing him.

Harry circled his arms around Louis’ neck and he barely had to pull to get Louis to lay down on top of him, relishing in the weight and the slide of their tongues.

Louis moaned into Harry’s mouth, breaking their kiss to breathe and move his attention to Harry’s neck. “You little shit,” he breathed as he kissed under Harry’s jaw. “Trying to kill me…when did you learn to do that?”

Harry arched his back a little when he felt Louis’ tongue brushing between Louis’ lips, hovering on Harry’s neck. “Been – oh – been practicing,” Harry admitted, blushing to the roots of his hair.

Louis groaned, and Harry’s breathing hitched when he felt Louis’ teeth graze the skin on his neck. “Oh, I l-like that,” he whispered to himself, and Louis must’ve heard because he did it again.

“When do you practice?” Louis asked, making his way back up to Harry’s neck.

Harry’s hands slid down Louis’ back, one sliding back up under Louis’ shirt and the other continuing down to slide over Louis’ bum and wedge itself into Louis’ back pocket. Harry kissed back, eyes shut as he rolled his body underneath Louis, whimpering slightly when their hips rolled against each other, adding pressure to Harry’s hardening penis.

Harry tugged at Louis’ shirt and Louis took the hint, ending the kiss to pull back. Harry followed Louis up, Louis kneeling on the bed between Harry’s spread legs, and Harry reached up to pull Louis’ shirt off all the way. Harry stayed still, though, and looked Louis in the eyes for a minute before he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Louis’ collar bone. “Practice in – in that mirror,” Harry admitted, nodding his head towards the mirror next to his bed. “When I’m – when I, erm, am…when I touch myself,” Harry finally rushed out. “’Cause – ‘cause Niall said if you, like – if you’re in the moment, or – or whatever, then you can – then it’s easier? And I – erm, I just wanted to – to –”

Harry was grateful when Louis grabbed his face and brought him into a kiss, and he let his hands trail over Louis’ chest and abs, his brain going fuzzy when Louis sucked on his tongue.

“Wait,” Harry said, and Louis immediately stopped and leaned back a bit, eyes worried, so Harry quickly said, “I’m fine,” and then swallowed, getting up the courage. “Can – erm, remember last night? When I – when I, erm, kissed your neck?”

Louis nodded and smiled, his fingers rubbing Harry’s skin soothingly. “Want me to do that to you?” He offered.

“No,” Harry answered. “I mean – yes, but – erm, but no; I was – actually wondering if – if I could – do it again?”

Louis blinked, but then smiled again and nodded. “You don’t have to ask, sweetheart,” he said. “I always like that; it’s like kissing.”

Harry smiled with the new knowledge, and he tilted his face for another kiss before he pulled back and then moved towards Louis’ neck, pressing his lips to the skin and reveling in the sigh Louis let out. As Harry got more comfortable, Louis rolled his head back, and it gave Harry loads more space to cover and more room to do it, so he whispered a quick “Thank you” and hesitantly pressed an open-mouthed kiss, smiling into Louis’ neck when he heard Louis’ breath hitch. He tried copying all the good things Louis did to his neck, and soon, Louis was moaning quietly and Harry was sucking at the skin where his neck met his collarbone, teeth slightly pressed into it and a mark forming.

“Hazza,” Louis moaned, “wanna touch you, baby.”

Harry tensed a little, but Louis shushed him and soothed him with a hand in his hair and said, “Your shirt, babe; your shirt.”

Harry relaxed and let a shaky laugh huff over Louis’ neck and he kissed the skin one more time before pulling back to let Louis take it off for him, blushing as Louis looked him over with his eyes all big and starry, like he’d done something wonderful for him just by having his shirt off.

Harry ducked his head and blushed when Louis lifted his chin up to make Harry look at him, and smiled before he kissed him.

Harry let himself be slowly pushed back down onto his back and moaned when he felt Louis follow closely, their bare chests pressing together. Harry’s hands ran over the thick threads of muscle in Louis’ back and shoulders, and Louis’ hands stayed in Harry’s hair or on the back of his neck, resting his weight on his forearms next to Harry’s ribs on the mattress.

Harry bucked his hips slightly and the resulting groan got caught in his throat when Louis immediately pressed his hips back down. They rocked together, and Harry’s breathing got heavier and heavier, his fingers pressing into Louis’ skin, blunt fingernails leaving marks until they moved down to Luis’ bum, pressing him harder an closer and making them both groan. Louis pulled a little tighter at Harry’s curls, but it only made the sensation better as Harry’s whole body tingled and caught fire in a way he’d missed terribly, in a way on Louis could do.

Harry let Louis’ name fall from his mouth as his hips canted up, more forceful each time, and his penis throbbed with the attention and he could feel himself starting to tip over the edge. His belly tightened and he gasped when Louis’ teeth grazed the underside of his jawline, making the spring-loaded heat inside of him go off and explode, spreading from head to toe.

Harry let out a sob of Louis’ name and his nails raked up Louis’ back as he came into his boxers and stars went off behind his eyelids. Louis tensed not too long afterwards, and he muttered a swear word when he went limp almost immediately after.

Harry sighed, catching his breath, and closed his eyes, planning on giving into the urge to sleep. But Louis got up with a kiss to Harry’s lips, muttering, “Be right back,” as he left the room. Harry watched him go happily and then flopped back down onto the bed, eyes slipping shut pleasantly as he heard cabinets being opened and the faucet being turned on.

Seconds later, Harry opened his eyes when he felt a cold, wet dishrag land on his bare stomach. He yelped in shock at the temperature difference and glared when Louis sniggered.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, and Harry lessened the glare a little, but Louis was still laughing, so he didn’t lessen it all the way. “I didn’t mean to get it on your stomach.” He laughed a little more as he pulled another pair of boxers from Harry’s dresser and said, “Clean yourself up in here; I’ll do it in the bathroom. I’ll knock when I’m done, alright?”

Harry blushed, touched that Louis was being so thoughtful, and nodded, and Louis closed the door gently. Harry blushed to himself when he pulled down his jeans and underwear, wiping himself off and wincing at the cold. He hurried over to his dresser and got a pair of boxers for himself and put them on, folding up the soiled pair and jeans and putting them in his hamper, leaving off the lid so Louis could do the same.

Harry was picking up their discarded school books when Louis finally knocked, and Harry softly said he could come in, smiling when Louis wrapped his arms around Harry from behind. Harry straightened up and leaned back into Louis, smiling complacently. He picked one of Louis’ hands from around his waist and kissed the back of it, flipping it over to kiss his palm.

“What do you wanna do now?” Louis asked happily, resting his head on Harry’s shoulder.

Harry closed his eyes and said, “Sleep,” insistently, making Louis laugh. They tumbled onto the bed and slid under the covers, curling up tightly together, Harry wrapped around Louis (a habit they’d been getting into since Harry’s flashback – so they still had the closeness, but Harry wouldn’t wake up feeling trapped, and could easily get away if he felt overstimulated).

“Missed that,” Harry admitted right before he fell asleep. “Missed doing that with you.”

Louis squirmed closer and squeezed his arms over Harry’s, wrapped around his waist. “I missed it, too,” he said. “I love you,” he added after a while of quiet.

Harry kissed the back of his neck and nuzzled closer, wondering if Louis could feel the smile Harry had against Louis’ cheek. “I love you, too,” he whispered.


	24. Part 23.

Louis groaned and let his head flop forward, hitting his textbook with a rustling of pages and a quiet _thud_.

“You’re pitiful, mate,” Zayn called form across the room.

Louis looked up and glared at his best friend for a total of three seconds before giving in, nodding along. “I _know_ ,” he groaned. “ _Why_ does Harry think it’s a good idea to hang out with our best mates? I’ll never understand,” he said jokingly.

“Oh, hush,” Zayn said half-heartedly, “I’m fantastic company.”

“Zayn, we’ve not hung out properly, just the two of us, in a few weeks, and we’re doing _homework_ ,” Louis said bluntly. Zayn laughed and shrugged, clicking away on his phone. “And you’re not even paying attention to me!”

Zayn chuckled, sending his message, but then put his phone down onto his lap, staring over at Louis. “Alright, Lou. You’ve got all my attention.”

Satisfied, Louis smiled and sat up, leaning against his wall. “How are you and Nialler doing?” He asked with a smile.

Zayn laughed. “I _knew_ you were about to ask about him,” he teased. “But we’re great. He’s really good. We’re, like, exclusive, now, and that’s…challenging. But worth it.”

Louis grinned. “Don’t let Stan hear you say that!”

Zayn rolled his eyes, laughing. “Stan can think what he wants. Me and Niall are…happy. We’re good together. He’s funny and he doesn’t make fun of me for looking nice like _some people_ I know,” he said pointedly, “and, you know. The sex is incredible.” He shrugged. “We’re good.”

Louis laughed. “Well, I’m glad it’s all good with you guys! It was about time you two went exclusive.”

Zayn smiled indulgently. “Why, because he’s a possessive and angry little Irishman?” he laughed.

Louis’ eyes widened. “ _Is he_?” He breathed, surprised.

Zayn laughed out loud, nodding. “He’s mad, it’s ridiculous! But I don’t mind. All I have to do is smile and be a little flirty and he’s all over me.”

“And you’re okay with that?” Louis asked, his nose scrunching as he imagined Harry doing the same, and seeing only underlying feelings of insecurity stemming it.

Zayn shrugged, eyebrows furrowing. “Sure, why not?” he asked. “You wouldn’t want Harry being all over you?” he paused. “I mean, if you were _there_.”

Louis shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s just the way he is, or the way we are, or something, but I feel like if he started acting that way it’d be because he was upset or worried more than anything else.”

Zayn frowned. “Do you think that’s why Niall does it? Because he’s upset?”

“Nah,” Louis answered reassuringly. “I think it’s more like, for him, like ‘all this is mine’. For me, like if I started doing that with Harry, it’d probably be more protection than anything, like if he were uncomfortable with someone’s attention. But I feel like if he started acting jealous and hanging all over me, or something, it’d be more of him feeling like whoever I’m talking to is better than him, and worrying that I might agree.”

Zayn frowned sympathetically. “That must be hard, mate,” he said regretfully.

Louis shrugged. “It probably would be, if it happened,” he admitted, “but I don’t really _want_ to flirt with anyone. I mean, sure, I still think people are hot, obviously, but I’m just not _into_ anyone else.” He coughed and looked back at his textbook so Zayn wouldn’t see his blush. “So he doesn’t ever have the chance to worry.”

Zayn shook his head a little dejectedly, breaking eye contact. “No, man, I mean…it must be hard, being with someone who doesn’t get stuff like that.” Confused, Louis furrowed his brows and looked at his best mate, and Zayn elaborated. “I mean, does he get things? Like when you’re up for it, does he get that? Don’t you have to spell everything out for him? Niall says he’s, like, almost like a kid in that way – that he doesn’t understand subtle hints, or flirting, or anything. It must suck, to be with someone who doesn’t know how you feel unless you say it loud and clear.”

Surprised by Zayn’s little outburst, Louis raised his eyebrows. He opened his mouth, but for a few seconds, nothing came out. “Harry is _very_ flirty,” he defended his boyfriend. A little irate, he continued. “And he _does_ get things. Just because he never slept around like we did doesn’t mean he’s _stupid_ , Zayn. And when he _doesn’t_ get something, I _do_ spell it out. And it’s not a problem, because I fucking care about him.”

“But don’t you ever get tired of playing teacher to a sixteen-year-old?” Zayn interrupted. “I mean, fuck, you’ve been together, what, seven months?”

“Six, about,” Louis corrected absently.

“And you haven’t slept with him,” Zayn continued like he hadn’t heard Louis. “Haven’t even gotten a fucking _blowjob_ off him. I just feel _bad_ for you, man,” he said, shaking his head again.

Louis stood from his bed, walking closer to Zayn, who was still slouched in Louis’ chair. “He’s not a _fuck buddy_ , Zayn,” Louis said quietly, getting increasingly angry. “He’s my _boyfriend_.”

“Yeah,” Zayn continued obstinately, “and I’ve been sleeping with mine for months, now. Yours can’t even handle a stroke to the shaft –”

Without thinking, Louis swung his fist, hitting Zayn across the jaw. Zayn’s head jerked to the side, and Louis’ hand throbbed, but Zayn rubbed his jaw and stood, a few inches taller than Louis. Regret already laced Zayn’s eyes when he looked at Louis, but Louis was too angry to care. “I think you need to leave,” he said, breathing heavily like he’d run a race, rather than thrown one punch.

Zayn nodded, and he collected his books and put them into his bag with Louis standing over him. Silently, Louis watched as his best friend walked out the door without a word.

—-

Louis threw his phone in his locker, tugged off his shirt, and sat down with his cleats, lacing up. He unlocked the equipment room with his key and took out the bag of footballs, throwing the entire thing over his shoulder, and lugged them out to the field.

Taking each ball out of the bag, he lined them up horizontally in front of the goal, huffing when he felt the chill seeping into his chest, with no shirt on. He turned and jogged off in the opposite direction, running on the outline of the field, around the other goal, and down the paint, using his momentum to send the first ball flying into the goal from an angle, cutting left again to run along the paint and run the same path over and over again, kicking the footballs into the goal. When the last ball went sailing into the net, Louis slowed his jog and swung around towards center-field, and stopped short when he saw someone approaching the field from the corner.

Squinting through the slight darkness, Louis stared at Harry’s hunched over figure, arms folded over his chest and shivering in the cold, until he could hear Harry’s footfalls. Harry looked up at Louis, relief on his face fading into concern, and stopped a few feet away from him.

“What are you doing out here?” He asked, concerned.

Louis looked towards the net and then back at Harry, shrugging. “Practicing?” he answered, voice gone husky from the cold.

Harry shook his head and looked off to the side.

“How’d you know I was here?” Louis asked, stepping closer to Harry.

Smiling a little sadly, Harry looked over at Louis as he approached. “Your phone was off,” he answered, shrugging. “The Jungle is for me and you, now, so I figured you wouldn’t go there alone. I knew if you turned off your phone, you couldn’t possibly at home with the girls, ‘cause you’d keep it on in case of an emergency. …Unless you were with Stan or Zayn, this was the only place I could think of.”

Louis shook his head, turning away from Harry slightly, not wanting his company right then. He wanted to stew in his anger alone, take it out on footballs instead of Harry.

But Harry had different plans.

“Hey,” he said, stepping forward and grabbing Louis’ arm, forcing him to turn back.

Louis turned, but pulled his arm free, and Harry looked so hurt, and it only made Louis angrier. “I don’t want company right now, Harry,” he said bluntly. “Go back to Niall or Liam’s car and go home. I’ll call you when I’m in a better mood.” Harry swallowed tightly and turned to go, and Louis felt bad for treating Harry like a doormat, despite genuinely not wanting Harry there.

He was surprised when Harry stopped and turned around, looking uncertain but standing his ground. “No,” he said loudly. “No. I’m not leaving you alone, Lou. You’re angry, and upset for some reason, and I get that you want alone time, but this is – this is suicide, staying out here. It’s cold, and you don’t even have a shirt on!”

Harry grabbed Louis’ hand and tugged at it, a hopeful expression on his face, but Louis didn’t budge.

“Lou, c’mon,” he pleaded. “I’ll leave you alone as soon as you’re home, but I’m not about to let you get sick!”

Louis looked into Harry’s pleading eyes and sighed. He wiped a hand down his face and sighed. “Alright,” he said, wincing as a gust of wind chilled them. Looking up at the sky, he said, “Who brought you here? Go on home with them. I’ll pick up the footballs and then I’ll drive home, alright? I promise.” He pulled away to go pick up the footballs, but noticed the sheepish expression on his face, not moving. “Harry?” He asked.

Harry took a deep breath, hesitating for a second. “I – erm – nobody brought me,” he admitted, “I – I walked here.” As if on cue, he shivered, and Louis swore he heard teeth chatter.

“You _walked here_ in the _cold_?!” Louis demanded, and then swore. “Get inside, Harry, dammit,” he snapped, waving his arm towards the locker room. Harry nodded sheepishly and then jogged stiffly towards it, his figure disappearing quickly in the fading light. Swearing angrily, and worried that Harry would be sick, Louis hurried through picking up the footballs and stuffing them into the bag.

Louis shut the equipment room and locked it again, hurrying over to his locker, where Harry sat, curled up on a bench. Biting his lip, Louis looked around desperately for something to help. Harry must have heard Louis approaching, because he looked up at him and tried smiling, but it looked off.

“What’s wrong?” Louis asked, swallowing his feelings to deal with Harry.

Harry grimaced. “I was with Niall when Zayn called,” he said softly. Louis swallowed but said nothing, keeping his face impassive. “Niall said Zayn told him you swung at him, hit him in the jaw,” Harry prompted. When Louis didn’t answer, Harry sighed and asked, “What happened?”

Louis closed his eyes and turned his head, leaning back against his locker in front of Harry and sinking down to the floor. When he opened his eyes, Harry was looking down to him, concerned, and it made Louis feel worse.

“He was being a dick,” Louis said, “so I let him know.” He shrugged, like it was nothing.

“By punching him in the face,” Harry stated blankly.

“Yeah.”

“Louis–”

“Harry, just drop it, would you?” Louis said, voice loud in the suddenly silent locker room as he threw his hands up in his temper. Harry’s breath hitched. “Can’t you tell I don’t want to talk about how I hit my best friend in the fucking face?” Louis continued, looking at Harry with his eyes wide, not understanding why Harry wanted to talk so badly.

“Louis, I just –”

“Harry, I _really_ don’t want to hear it right now,” Louis snapped, interrupting Harry’s tiny voice.

Harry was silent for a few minutes, and Louis was too cowardly to look up at him, not wanting to see the hurt he’d just put on his boyfriend’s face. He knew he shouldn’t be treating Harry like it was his fault his best friend was a dick, or be upset with Harry for caring enough to be worried and come find him, especially enough to walk all the way to the field in the cold, early-March weather, but it felt like this was the last straw on a mountainous haystack he hadn’t even known about until now. In the silence, Louis could feel everything – worry for education after high school, his mum, his sisters, Harry, anger at Mark, anger for his mum and sisters, anger for Harry, anger at Zayn, fear, general stress, the feeling of ultimate betrayal from Zayn, guilt, the weight of little tiny things adding up and dealing with all of it on his own. It felt like every single ounce of every emotion he’d ever had in his life was piled up on top of his lungs.

“I – erm,” Harry’s shaky, high-pitched voice reached Louis’ ears, and Louis bowed his head in shame when he realized Harry was seconds from crying. “I think I’m – gonna go shower…and warm up.” Louis heard Harry stand up, shift from foot to foot, and then he said, “You – I can walk home on my own. You don’t have to wait.” Before Louis could protest that of _course_ he would take Harry home, Harry was making his way quickly towards the shower area, turning on every shower head in the place. Louis got a sinking feeling in his gut that it was so Louis wouldn’t hear Harry crying.

Louis stayed where he was, on the floor against his locker, and he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, though he felt a few hot tears escape. Angry at himself for crying, he wiped them away furiously when he heard Harry turning off all the shower heads, and he was back to pressing at his eyes until he saw colors when Harry sat down on the bench in front of him.

Louis kept his face in his hands, but Harry must have known he was trying not to cry, because Louis felt himself being pulled forward, and his head was placed in Harry’s toweled lap. One of Harry’s hands sorted softly through Louis’ hair, and the other rubbed listlessly at his shoulders and back, and Louis let out a shuddery breath, inhaling the scent of the towel and Harry’s skin.

“It’s okay,” Harry said quietly. “Whatever happened, it’ll sort itself out.” He continued cooing at Louis quietly until Louis shook his head slowly.

Louis reached over his shoulder, awkwardly searching for Harry’s hand, twisting back to normal when he found Harry’s wrist, sliding down and tangling his fingers with Harry’s loosely. He lifted his head from Harry’s lap and looked Harry in his (also) red eyes as he bit his lip, shaking his head slightly. “I’m so sorry,” he choked out, clearing his throat. Thankfully, Harry stayed quiet, and Louis continued, “I have no right to treat you like that, honestly. I’m surprised you didn’t just tell me to fuck off. I’m not – it’s not your fault, and I was just pissed off, and you were here.”

Harry’s free hand stroked through Louis’ hair slowly and he smiled a little, peaceful smile. “I forgive you,” he answered quietly. “I’m angry with you,” he said seriously, raising his eyebrows like a warning, “but I forgive you.” He brushed through Louis’ hair some more, pulling it all to one side and then back, idly. “Thank you for apologizing,” he added after a pause.

Louis nodded and let go of Harry’s hand to wrap his arms around Harry’s waist, scooting himself closer and resting his head on Harry’s lap again. “I love you,” he said.

Harry scratched softly at Louis’ scalp. “I love you, too,” he said like a promise.

\---

About an hour later, Louis parked his car in front of Harry’s house and killed the engine. It had been a silent ride home, and Louis could feel the questions tumbling around in Harry’s head.

But when Louis looked over to Harry, he was surprised at the gentle concern on Harry’s face, having expected the icy front to still be locked in place. “Will you tell me what happened with Zayn, now?” he asked softly.

Louis swallowed. He wanted to talk about it, a little, but he didn’t want Harry to know the horrible things Zayn had said about him. He knew it would hurt Harry’s feelings and make him even more self-conscious and ashamed, and it wasn’t fair that Harry had to deal with that at all, much less someone Harry considered a friend.

“Lou?”

Louis snapped out of his head, looking at Harry’s concerned face, and swallowed again. “Hazza,” he said quietly, “I – I really don’t want to talk about it.” Harry’s face fell a little, and Louis’ insides twinged at disappointing Harry. “We’ll be okay, alright? We’ll work it out. I promise.”

Harry sighed but nodded, giving a reluctant smile as he unbuckled his seatbelt. “Are you coming in?” he asked when Louis didn’t move to unbuckle himself, as well.

Louis shook his head slowly. “I think I just need some alone-time,” he admitted. “I need to – sort some things out, you know? I can’t – the way I took it out on you wasn’t fair, and I think I need to write some things down, write a list, or something, of things I need to do.” Harry nodded reluctantly, again, and Louis said, “I’ll pick you up for school tomorrow?”

“Okay,” Harry accepted. He leaned in and kissed Louis’ cheek, pausing to add, “By the way, I’m still mad at you. …Just so you know.” But he smiled before he got out, saying, “See you in the morning,” and walked quickly into his house, wearing Louis’ hoodie over his clothes.

—-

“So, Zayn’s in the doghouse, eh?”

Louis looked up from his lunch the next day to where Stan had just leaned forward, watching Zayn dump the rest of his lunch in the trash can and leave the cafeteria. “What?” He asked Stan.

Stan furrowed his eyebrows. “What, Zayn didn’t tell you Niall’s not talking to him right now?” He asked incredulously.

Louis shook his head, not having told Stan they weren’t speaking at the moment. “No, he hadn’t,” he murmured. “Why’s Niall mad at him?” He asked.

Stan looked around and then leaned forward and said, “Apparently, Zayn said something really dickish about one of Niall’s friends, or something, and someone else gave him that nasty bruise ‘round his jaw? Well, Niall found out what Zayn said, and isn’t talkin’ to him at the moment.”

Louis chewed his sandwich as he processed Stan’s words before he swallowed and asked, “Has Niall told his friend what Zayn said yet?”

Stan shrugged, looking like he was wondering why Louis would even care. “Dunno,” he answered, like it would be obvious. “Probably, if they’re mates, right?”

Louis sighed and nodded, putting down his sandwich and pulling out the stack of sticky notes all the teachers in the school used. He pulled out a pen and handed both to Stan with a significant look. “Do me a favor?” He asked.

—-

Louis knocked on Mr. C’s door, waiting to hear the gruff, “What?” to open it and peer around. When Mr. C saw Louis, he rolled his eyes. “Oh, God, what do you want?” He asked, only slightly joking.

“Note from Mrs. Noelle,” Louis said, pulling Stan’s faked note from his pocket and handing it to the grumpy teacher.

“ _Andrew, please send student Harry Styles along with my T.A.; he is needed to make up a test in psychology. Thanks, Linda Noelle_.” Mr. C read the note and then rolled his eyes, finding Harry in the darkest corner of the classroom. “Alright, Harry, go with Louis. Take your books and hope one of your classmates takes good notes for you,” he said gruffly.

Louis watched as Harry nodded and gathered his books into his backpack and stood, winding his way through the class, not quite meeting Louis’ eyes when he reached him. Louis smiled at Mr. C, who only rolled his eyes once more, and Louis and Harry left the room.

“I haven’t missed or failed any tests in psychology,” Harry mumbled as soon as the door was shut behind him.

“I know,” Louis answered. “I had Stan fake it,” he explained with a shrug. “Wanted to see you.”

Harry didn’t answer for a while, and they walked into the library, both signing in and picking a table in the back corner, spreading a few books out to make it look like they were working, should the librarian actually get off her bum and do her job.

“So, I know why you didn’t want to tell me what you and Zayn fought about,” Harry said quietly, not beating around the bush.

Louis sighed heavily. “I was really hoping Niall wouldn’t tell you what happened,” he admitted.

“Why?” Harry asked. “Is Zayn’s version not what really happened?”

“What’s Zayn’s version?” Louis hedged.

Harry sighed, fanning the pages of one of his textbooks to make the pages fall together, making a weird sound. “He said that you guys were talking, like, about me, and that he – basically, like, said I was stupid and didn’t _get_ things, like hints and flirtation and things, and that you got angry and punched him in the jaw over it.”

Louis could see the hesitance in Harry’s face as he nodded along to the story. “And what else did Niall say?” he asked slowly. “When did he even tell you?”

“He – I called him, last night, asked him what happened. He told me you fought about me, and that he was angry with Zayn, and that he’d give me all the other stuff this morning in first hour,” Harry answered.

“Alright,” Louis answered, nodding along, “so what else did he say?”

Harry swallowed and leaned forward. “He said that Zayn – made fun of me, a little. Because we haven’t – because I haven’t, erm. Given you a – a bl- a _blowjob_.” He looked down as he said it, and Louis frowned, because he seemed embarrassed, and he couldn’t tell if Harry was embarrassed to say the word or embarrassed because they hadn’t sucked each other off.

“Yeah,” Louis said eventually. “That’s what happened, basically.” He wiped his hand over his face. “I just didn’t want you to have to hear that, is all. Didn’t want you to feel bad, or worry that I feel the same, or anything. Because I don’t.”

Harry reached across the table and grabbed Louis’ hand, bringing it to his cheek and pressing it against is skin. “I know, Lou,” he said confidently, smiling. “I know you love me for real, and don’t mind.” He pressed a kiss to Louis palm and said quietly, “Wanna know a secret?”

Louis laughed quietly and nodded when he saw the seriousness melt off Harry’s face and transform into excitement and mischief.

“Well, it’s two things, actually,” Harry corrected himself. He grabbed a pen and fished out a spiral notebook from his backpack, opening it to a new page. Neatly, and slowly, he blushed as he wrote,

_1). While you were with Zayn, I was with Niall…talking about blowjobs._

Louis choked and started coughing, accepting Harry’s water bottle and being infinitely grateful Harry was paranoid about getting dehydrated as he chugged water back to safety. Harry covered his mouth to keep from making too much noise with his laughter, and then he wrote,

_2). When Niall told me you punched Zayn over me, like defending me or whatever, I got hard in my pants._

Louis squeezed his eyes shut at the mental image of Harry in his first hour class, squirming with arousal. “Are you serious?” He asked in a whisper, hands gripping Harry’s water bottle.

Harry blushed scarlet but nodded, biting his lip as he leaned forward again, beckoning Louis to do the same. Louis leaned forward, expecting Harry to crane his neck and whisper something, and being caught completely off guard when Harry licked up his neck and whispered, “I had to go to the bathroom and touch myself.”

Louis gasped and sat back down, trying valiantly not to squeeze the water bottle until it burst. He squeezed his eyes shut and fought away the image of Harry in the toilets with a hand on his cock, red-faced and trying hard to pant quietly. _Nan, nan, nan’s fanny pack, tampons, vaginas, nan in her fanny pack, hysterically crying teenaged girls with runny eye makeup._ Louis repeated the images in his head until he was calm enough, and opened his eyes to see his boyfriend smirking down at his History book, going through the lesson he was currently missing and taking notes for himself.

Louis grabbed his notebook and wrote, _Harry Styles, you will be the death of me._


	25. Part 24.

Harry pushed his wet hair from his face and sighed, shivering as he walked out of the locker room and hit the cold air. Thankful Stan had taken to the new routine of driving him to work when Louis couldn’t, Harry juggled his bags as he made his way to Stan’s car, parked in the Senior lot. He pulled up short when he saw Zayn leaning against the car, smoking and staring at the ground.

“Zayn,” he said a bit dumbly.

Zayn’s head snapped up when he heard Harry’s voice, and he pushed off the car with his foot, stepping closer to Harry. Stuffing a hand in his pocket and looking awkward, Zayn looked around and asked, “Can I talk to you?”

Harry gaped for a second before he closed his mouth and swallowed. “I – I have to go to work,” he said, screwing up his mouth into a half-apologetic smile.

“I’ll take you,” Zayn offered, a mix of eager and desperate. He took a long drag from his cigarette and took another step closer. “Please,” he said quietly, looking behind Harry. Harry looked over his shoulder and saw Stan approaching with a few of their teammates, laughing and not paying much attention. “I really need to talk to you. I’ll take you straight to your work. Promise.”

Harry bit his lip, looking at Zayn’s desperate eyes, and found himself nodding. “I – yeah, alright,” he said. “Let me just go tell Stan.”

Zayn sagged in relief and nodded. “Yeah,” he said, nodding. “I’ll bring my car over.”

Harry walked over to Stan and let him know Zayn was taking him, and Stan shrugged easily and clapped Harry on the back, telling him he’d see him the next day. Zayn’s car pulled up behind Stan’s, and Harry walked in, putting his bags in the floorboard and resting his feet on them as he buckled up.

“It’s the bakery, on Kramer and West,” Harry told him. When Zayn nodded, Harry hesitated. “So…what’d you need to talk about?” he asked, tapping his thigh randomly.

Zayn looked at Harry and turned out of the parking lot, headed towards the right street. “I – Lou probably told you, or Niall; ehm.” He took another drag off his cigarette and blew it out the window, which was cracked despite the cold. “Basically, I was a dick,” he admitted, “about you. I – I don’t know, man, I don’t know where it came from; I just – I don’t get how you _do_ it. Go without sex, I mean,” Zayn clarified as he looked over at Harry again. Harry blushed. “But it’s not my business. And I, like – I said some shit about you, and it was way out of line. I’m not even mad Lou hit me, really. I’m surprised he didn’t knock me out, to be honest.”

Harry nodded slowly, taking in Zayn’s words. “I – well, yeah. Niall told me, and then Louis talked to me about it, too,” he admitted. “Erm – as for not – like, how I… go without?” Harry continued, blushing and grateful Zayn seemed to be focusing well on his driving. “I don’t – I mean, you don’t crave tacos super badly. Not if you’ve never had them.”

Zayn laughed quietly and nodded along before he got serious again. “I just – I was being a shit friend – to Louis and to you, not to mention Niall – and I don’t blame any of you if you never forgive me, but. I wanted to apologize either way.”

Harry took a deep breath. “I appreciate that,” he said, giving Zayn a shy, uncertain smile, which he returned. “I’d like it if we were friends,” Harry added, “because Louis loves you, and it’d be nice. But I’m not – I mean, I won’t, like, deal with friends who say mean things about me, is all. If you don’t get something, like…ask me. But you can’t do what you did and still think we’re friends. That’s not friendship.” Harry finished quickly with a breath, hating that squiggly feeling in his stomach he got whenever he had a confrontation.

Zayn nodded quickly. “No, I know,” he said in a rush. “I’m not going to do that, ever again, Harry; I swear. I just – wanted to apologize, and, like, if you want to – I’d like to try being friends again?”

Harry bit his lip and then nodded. “Sure, Zayn,” he said with a little smile.

Zayn smiled, relieved, and pulled up to the bakery as if it were on cue. Harry hopped out, grabbing his bags, and thanked Zayn for the ride before he smiled and shut the door, heading to the bakery for work.

—-

A few hours later, Harry sat in Karen’s office, explaining the events of the past few days since he’d been in to see her for his first appointment. Glancing awkwardly at her big, clunky tape recorder, Harry ended up talking about Zayn’s conversation before work, ending with a scratch to his chin as he said, “Should I tell Louis about it?”

Karen sat back in her chair and regarded Harry. “Do you want to?” She countered.

Harry scowled mentally. He liked Karen, he did, but she had a habit of never telling him what to do or how to do things, and asking him questions until he decided what to do on his own. It was like pulling teeth. He could probably ask Karen how to tie his shoe and she’d ask him questions until he got it himself. “I think so,” Harry answered reluctantly, earning a little smile from Karen. “I mean, I think it’d make him happy to know Zayn apologized.”

“But what about for yourself?” Karen asked. “Do you want to tell him because it’ll make _him_ happy, or is there a reason that has to do with _you_?”

Harry furrowed his brows. “I don’t – I mean I don’t gain anything either way, do I?” He asked confusedly. “I mean, it happened, whether I tell Louis or not. It’s not like it’s something I feel like I need to _get off my chest_ , or anything.” Harry swallowed, feeling the struggle he was having.

“So then why tell him?” Karen asked. “Why not just keep it to yourself?”

Harry hesitated. “So, you…think I shouldn’t tell Louis, then?” He asked slowly.

“Not at all,” Karen said mildly. “I think it’s definitely something you could tell Louis if you decide to.”

“But you just –!” Harry began, frustrated.

“I asked _why_ you wanted to tell him, Harry,” Karen said gently, laughter in her voice. “I just want you to understand why you tell Louis everything.”

“Because I don’t keep secrets from him,” Harry said immediately.

“But why?” She pressed. “Why not keep things to yourself? Secrets aren’t always a bad thing.”

“They are to me,” Harry argued stubbornly as he crossed his arms over his chest petulantly.

“Why?” Karen asked, calm as ever. “Surely, you’ve kept _one_ secret from _someone_. You don’t tell _everyone everything_.”

Harry thought until the answer came to mind, sending a shiver down his spine.

—-

Harry chewed his lip contemplatively, pacing back and forth in his room while Liam listed the pros and cons of telling Louis about Harry’s talk with Zayn. When Liam stopped talking, Harry sighed and sat down on his bed.

“What’s on your mind, mate?” Liam asked, concerned.

Harry looked up at his best friend and shook his head. When Liam didn’t look convinced, Harry asked in a small voice, “Can you think of any times I actively kept something secret?”

Liam frowned, but when Harry just stared back at him seriously, he leaned back in his chair and thought. Just when Harry was beginning to get fidgety, Liam shook his head. “No,” he said slowly, “not that I can remember, anyway. You never keep stuff from us.”

Harry blew out a puff of air as he nodded. Just as he expected.

Liam watched carefully and leaned forward a bit, eyebrows furrowing. “What’s up, Hazza?” He asked with an edge to his voice. “Where’s this coming from?”

Harry bit his lip. “Karen,” he said, and Liam’s eyebrows all but merged together to create one giant unibrow.

“What?” He asked, confused.

Harry sighed and fidgeted with his shirt, staring at his lap. “We talked about keeping secrets today,” he began, not looking at Liam, “and she asked me, like, why I don’t do it? Like why I always tell someone whatever’s been on my mind?” Harry glanced up to see Liam nodding cautiously, and continued. “And when I just kept, like, saying that I didn’t know why I never kept things secret, like even the little things, she kept, like – kept pushing? Not meanly, or anything,” Harry added hastily when Liam’s expression darkened slightly, “just like – like she was trying to jog my memory, or something.” Liam relaxed and nodded encouragingly, and Harry bit his lip, tapping away with his fingertips. “I think – I think it’s ‘cause of – my dad.”

Liam jolted from his seat and sat next to Harry on the bed, twisting his body and folding one leg up under himself to watch Harry. After a moment’s silence, he asked, “What about him?”

Harry stared at his lap, though he felt Liam’s gaze on him, and mumbled, “It’s – I didn’t tell anyone. About – about that woman. That he messed with before me? …I didn’t say anything to anyone, and then – and then it happened to me.” Harry scratched at his nose and jabbed a finger into the corner of is eye, pressing against the tear duct to make the stinging go away. He heard Liam swallow loudly, but didn’t look. He didn’t want to see whatever Liam was thinking about him at that exact moment.

Harry swallowed. “Karen said – she said probably – I associate…secrets, with – _that_ , like subconsciously, and that’s why I don’t do it now.”

Liam broke the following silence with a quiet, “Well, that makes sense.” Harry nodded pathetically, and Liam asked, “So, what do I need to do for that?”

Harry looked up and around at his mate, surprised, and stuttered out, “I – w-what?”

Liam shrugged and smiled halfway. “You know I’d do anything for you, mate,” he said sincerely. “What do you need? Do you want to change your secret-keeping thing, or no, or…what?”

Harry bit his lip. “I don’t – I don’t know,” he admitted. “Can you – I need, like…time. To figure this stuff out, like how I feel about it now I know what’s really going on, like inside my head. You know?”

Liam nodded, and then looked thoughtful. “Explains why you’ve been so uneasy about not telling Louis you’re seeing Karen in the first place,” he mused, scratching his cheek absently.

Harry wrinkled his nose. “I know,” he sighed dejectedly. “But I think I’m gonna tell him. Maybe even bring him in to meet her, or something.”

—-

Harry breathed deeply as he watched more and more of the man’s penis disappear into the other boy’s mouth. Swallowing hard, Harry glanced at his own lap and squirmed, clearing his throat roughly and redirecting his attention to the computer screen as the man in the chair rolled his head back, groaning when the boy on his knees traced the vein’s on his penis with the tip of his tongue.

Harry let a hand rest on his lap and applied a bit of pressure when he imagined Louis in the chair, hands in his curls as Harry kissed and licked at his penis, one hand on what he couldn’t take and the other on Louis’ thigh, feeling his soft, firm skin beneath his fingers.

Harry jumped as his phone chimed loudly. Pulling his hands from atop his briefs, Harry paused the porn and opened his phone to the new message.

_Home in five, come help me unload groceries please! Xx_

Harry sighed heavily, eyes glaring at his ceiling. He mournfully looked at his groin, where his penis had just started thickening, and then to his computer screen, paused during a very intense blowjob, and mumbled to himself, “Just when it starts getting good!” but he closed his laptop and stood, adjusting himself, and headed downstairs to help.

—-

Harry sat cradled in Louis’ arms, both of his hands playing with one of Louis’ as he smiled up at him. “Love you,” Harry said softly.

Louis smiled at him and leaned down for a quick kiss. “Love you, too,” he replied quietly.

Harry relaxed further into Louis’ hold and resumed playing with Louis’ fingers absently.

“Is everything okay?” Louis asked suddenly. “I just – lately you’ve seemed a bit… I dunno… _something_. Is it your mum and Robin?”

Harry swallowed as he shook his head. “No, it’s – not Robin,” he answered, and then smiled a bit. “They’ve been going out on Fridays, and Mum said he brings her lunch sometimes. They’re, like – they’re good, or whatever. They’re fine.” He quieted, and when he looked up, he saw the frown on Louis’ face.

“What is it, then?” Louis asked gently, grabbed a hand and threading his fingers through Harry’s. Harry bit his lip, and Louis added, “Babe, I’m not gonna push you or anything, but…is there something you need to tell me?”

Harry nodded slowly, staring at where their fingers were tangled together. “I – yeah,” he admitted. “There’s – well, there’s two things I want to say to you, but I don’t know if…if you’ll understand it all?” Louis waited patiently, so Harry took a deep breath. “I’ve been seeing someone.” The hand scratching gently at Harry’s ribcage stilled instantly, and Louis’ breath audibly hitched. Harry looked up at him, and was caught off-guard to see that Louis looked pained.

Harry swallowed. “I – I’m sorry,” he said quickly, clutching Louis’ hand. “I know I should’ve told you, but it’s only been, like, two weeks, or something –”

“How could you not tell me this?” Louis almost whispered, eyebrows lowered and raising towards the middle. “Harry…”

“I – it’s helping me, Lou,” Harry said, not liking the panicky feeling growing in his chest. “It’s – it’s _helping_ , like with my confidence and stuff, and we – we _connect_ , like, really well, and – and –”

“Harry, just – just stop, alright?” Louis interrupted, and Harry swallowed and bit his lip. Louis pushed Harry out of his lap – not hard, but not as gentle as he typically would – and Harry shifted until he was leaning against the wall. Louis was silent, brushing a hand through his hair and then dragging his hand down his face. He wouldn’t look at Harry.

After what felt like hours, Harry spoke timidly. “I’m – I’m sorry I li-”

“When did you even have time to see someone, Harry?” Louis asked, whipping around to face him. His eyes were a little shiny and the set of his mouth was firm. “You’re with me _all_ the _time_.”

Harry bit his lip before admitting, “I – I lied. When I – I told you I had work.”

Louis laughed humorlessly. “Shit, Harry,” he shook his head. “God _damn_ it.”

Harry flinched back, a little hurt. “Louis, this was _your idea_!” He cried out, flopping his arms in frustration. “I found the number in _your wallet_! It had _my name_ on it!”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Louis demanded. “How did you – where do you even meet? Like – I don’t get it.”

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed when Louis acted like he didn’t remember Karen’s card in his wallet, but answered his second question. Quietly, he said, “Liam drove me to –”

“Liam?” Louis interrupted. He looked shocked. “Liam took you to see someone behind my back? Fuck,” Louis swore, laughing a little bitterly, “I mean, I knew his loyalty would always be you, of course, but I never thought he’d do something like help you _cheat on me_.”

Harry gasped and lurched forward, grabbing Louis’ wrist when he realized what Louis thought. “ _No_!” He nearly shouted, pulling at Louis’ wrist. “No, not _see someone_ , I – I meant like therapy! Like – like I’ve been seeing a _therapist_!”

Louis quieted instantly, and Harry could have sobbed with the relief. “What?” Louis finally asked, searching Harry’s eyes desperately.

“Just a therapist, Lou,” Harry said quickly. “We’ve met, like, three times. I – I found the card in your wallet. Remember, you had me grab your card out for you at the drive-thru? You – I found Karen’s card behind your credit card, and you – it was, you’d written my name on it. So I – I took it, and – and I talked to Liam about it, and we thought – after the – the flashback, a few weeks ago, we thought it’d – be a good idea? Maybe like – help me out, a little, and like – yeah. Lou,” Harry said, suddenly squeezing Louis’ entire forearm with both hands wrapped around it, “Lou, I could never – Lou, I _love you_ ; I wouldn’t – I’d _never_ do that to you.” His eyes started to sting at the insides, and he bit his lip. “I never would – I’d never even _want_ to. You – you’re my _favorite_ ,” he said, half-smiling as he remembered when Louis told him that, months back.

Louis leaned forward seamlessly, pulling his arm from Harry’s hands in favor of wrapping Harry up and hugging him tight, pulling him into his lap. Harry sighed in relief as Louis buried his face in Harry’s hair, and Harry tucked his forehead in between Louis’ neck and shoulder.

“’M sorry,” Louis said quietly, but sincerely. “I – you were so nervous; I thought it was something awful, and – you say you’re ‘seeing someone’; I just –”

“It’s alright, Lou,” Harry soothed, and pressed a kiss to Louis’ chest. His finger found Louis’ necklace and he grabbed it, surrounding the pendant in his fist until it left an imprint in his palm. “It’s okay.”

“I love you,” Louis said urgently. He pulled back, then, and his hands cupped Harry’s face. “And I am _so proud of you_ , for going. I – I took the card for _me_ , though.”

Harry’s eyes widened. “But Karen’s a tr-”

“A trauma specialist; I know,” Louis said, nodding. “But last time therapy was even _brought up_ , you looked so uncomfortable. I just – I wanted to – to talk to her, about you and me. And, like. You’d just had your flashback, and I – I was so upset. I didn’t know what to do; I just wanted to help but I was so scared I’d mess up. So I got the card and I – I kept it in my wallet, but then we had that talk in the Jungle, so I – I decided I’d just keep it, in case.”

Harry smiled and leaned forward again, resting his cheek against Louis’. “You’re so – good, Lou. You’re so good to me, and for me, and – just in general; you’re so good.”

Harry kissed him, softly, all lips, and his eyes relaxed shut as Louis kept it sweet and soft, nipping gently at his lips and nuzzling into Harry’s neck more often than kissing him back. Louis wrapped his arms around Harry’s back and laid them down, cuddling together and kissing idly until they were tired enough to sleep.

Harry drifted off first, but right before Louis went out, he remembered, and jostled Harry. Harry mrrrph’d grumpily, and Louis asked, “Harry. What was the second thing?”

Harry peeled one eye open blearily, looking at his boyfriend. He shut it again and shifted closer, pressing a kiss to his throat, and said, “Tell you tomorrow. Remind me.”


	26. Part 25.

Louis woke up to the shrill alarm, surrounded by a groaning, unhappy Harry.

“Harry, babe, don’t be upset!” Louis chirped as he reached over to turn off the alarm. “It’s our first game today!”

Louis watched in amusement as Harry’s eyes shot open, and moved just in time for him to bolt upright, out of Louis’ arms.

“Game day,” Harry mumbled, staring widely into space, and then he whipped around to look directly at Louis. “Louis, game day,” he said dumbly.

Louis sat up leisurely and patted Harry’s messy, frizzed-out curls. “Yes,” he said patiently, like he would to Daisy or Phoebe, “it’s game day, Hazza.” Harry continued staring, so Louis smiled and grabbed his arms and pulled him back down to lay on top of Louis.

Harry settled willingly enough, though when Louis cupped his cheek, he tucked his face into Louis’ neck, instead of kissing him. Louis made an unhappy, whiney sound in the back of his throat. “No kisses?” He asked, sulking slightly.

“I’ve got morning breath,” Harry mumbled into Louis’ neck.

Louis huffed a little laugh and said, “So’ve I; I was just gonna make you suffer through it.” Harry didn’t answer. “I don’t mind your morning breath,” Louis ventured, not sure if he’d get a kiss until they both had their teeth brushed.

But Harry pulled back to look into Louis’ eyes, and he said carefully, “Really?”

Louis held back his smile, and he nodded seriously.

Harry hesitated a bit before he said, “Alright…but – seriously, like. Tell me, and I’ll go brush my teeth, if it’s bad, alright?”

Louis laughed then, and promised as he pulled Harry’s face in, peppering Harry’s lips with his own. “The trick,” Louis said as he kissed around Harry’s cheeks, “is to not use tongue, keep ‘em closed. Then, it’s not so bad.”

Harry nodded slowly, starting to echo Louis’ pepper-kisses with some of his own, raining down on Louis, and Louis smiled and kissed Harry’s lips, pressing long, drawn-out smooches to his lips, hands coming around in Harry’s curls to keep him there. When he was finished, Louis let Harry draw back and said smugly, “Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Harry ‘mhmm’d and ducked back down, a hand tilting Louis’ chin up, and he licked up the side of Louis’ neck.

“Oh,” Louis said dumbly, and Harry ‘mhmm’d again, kissing up his neck, under Louis’ jawline. Just then, Louis felt Harry’s cock on his thigh, noticed Harry slowly starting to press his hips against his leg.

“Good morning, then,” Louis smirked, raising his leg in to Harry’s slow grind.

Harry’s neck kisses paused when he groaned against Louis’ collarbone, and then they picked up again. Feeling Harry’s hard cock riding his thigh, Louis groaned quietly when he felt himself getting hard as a result. A quick glance to the alarm clock said they had enough time to mess about a little, so Louis tangled a hand in Harry’s messy curls and wrapped his other arm around Harry’s waist, murmured, “Tell me if it gets too much,” and rolled them over, so he was on top of Harry.

Harry keened and his hands instantly went around to Louis’ back, one fisting and pulling at the shirt Louis fell asleep in, and the other on Louis’ bum, squeezing every time Louis so much as shifted his hips an inch.

“Lou,” Harry whimpered, and though Louis was rather enjoying the stretch of holding his head up while Harry’s lips were at his throat, Louis mumbled in question, showing he was listening. “Lou, make me – make me –”

“Make you come, baby?” Louis asked, his voice getting lower on its own accord. Harry whimper-moaned at that, and Louis took it as a yes. “Okay,” Louis promised, slowing his grinds and repositioning himself so he was just aligned with Harry the way he needed to be, in order for him to come.

Harry’s knees fell open completely, nearly bending to touch the mattress, and Louis pushed himself harder on top of Harry, loving the sounds of Harry’s puffing exhales with the little whines hidden in them. Bracing himself on the bed, Louis pulled his hand from Harry’s hair and ran it up and down Harry’s torso, ticking his fingers whenever they went over a nipple to make Harry heave tiny little gasps, his back jerking up a bit before he relaxed again, letting Louis do whatever he wanted.

Louis shifted, grinding his hips harder against Harry’s, and sucked Harry’s earlobe into his mouth, flicking his tongue back and forth against it. Harry’s breath hitched and he groaned against Louis’ collarbone, wet from the condensation of Harry’s hot breath, and Louis shivered at the hot air against his wet skin.

“I’m – Lou, can you –”

Louis flicked Harry’s nipple again as he grinded down hard and slow, and dirty, and Harry’s legs wrapped around Louis’ bum to hold him there as he came, moaning high-pitched into Louis’ neck. His fingers dug into Louis’ back and his teeth set into Louis’ neck, making Louis groan.

“Shit, Harry, fuck – feels so good,” Louis breathed, slowing his grinds to help ease Harry through the aftershocks of his orgasm.

Harry growled a little against Louis’ neck, making Louis shiver, and then sucked on it harder; Louis could feel the love bite forming and his cock gave a throb, aching for attention.

Before he did anything stupid, Louis gently extracted himself from Harry’s grasp and pushed himself up, sitting by Harry’s limp knees and looking down at him with a mostly-equal amount of lust and adoration. Harry was on his back, eyes slowly opening, and had a blissed-out expression on his face. His eyes were a bit glassy and his lips were swollen and so dark pink they were nearly red, and his skin was blotchy and flushed all over.

“Morning,” Louis said quietly.

Harry pushed himself up on one elbow, leaning towards Louis and extended an arm out to rub over Louis’ leg. “Come here and –” Harry blushed scarlet, and he averted his eyes, his hand slowly dropping from Louis’ leg altogether.

“Come what, Harry?” Louis asked curiously, leaning forward and grabbing Harry’s hand back again. “What do you want?” Louis tried to keep himself calm, because when Harry looked back up, his eyes were widening with lust again, despite having just come. “What do you need, sweetie?” Louis tried.

Harry shook his head. “I – you didn’t, erm. You didn’t – _come_.”

Louis swallowed tightly. “I – figured I’d just go take a shower and, erm. Take care of myself there.”

Harry licked his lips and sat up, avoiding Louis’ eyes like he’d catch fire if he didn’t. He played, embarrassed, with Louis’ fingers and asked, “Is it – you can’t, erm… Can you – can you –” He took a frustrated breath and finally blurted out, “Can you c-come, like – here? I – I mean, like, with me here? Or – or do you need, like. Do you need to – to not…look at me?”

Louis’ brow furrowed in confusion while Harry spoke, but when he heard him finish, his eyes widened. “Harry,” he said a little urgently, grabbing Harry’s hand and holding it tightly, “I – I just didn’t want to freak you out,” he said. “And I distinctly remember I promised you once I’d not just get off with you _right there_ ; do you remember that?”

Louis could see Harry remembering the time in the locker room, after Louis’d rubbed Harry’s back and made him hard, how Louis’d had to go think of nans and other gross, erection-killing things in a cold shower so he could take Harry home without being a safety hazard.

Harry nodded, blushing. “I – so it’s not… it’s not _me_?” He asked, sounding a little hopeful and a little awed and incredibly embarrassed.

“Oh, God, Harry, _no_ , sweetheart,” Louis rushed to reassure him, pulling on his arm so they were hugging awkwardly, both sitting up and leaning into it. Louis pressed a kiss on Harry’s sweaty temple, smiling when Harry closed his eyes and leaned contentedly into the pressure. Louis brushed fingers through Harry’s curls, and then he leaned sideways so they both could lay down in front of each other, on their sides. Louis’ cock was softening, but Harry’s fingers started to roam a bit, affecting him in ways.

“Then, can –” Harry went so red, it was nearly purple, and he took a deep breath and buried his face in Louis’ neck. Louis wrapped an arm loosely around Harry’s shoulders, fingers playing in the ends of his hair. “Can I – watch?” Harry asked. Louis’ breath hitched, and his cock gave a little throb, hardening rapidly. “Is that – is that a thing in real life? Or – or just porn?” Harry asked, sounding nervous, like he’d just asked Louis for something outrageously weird or kinky.

“No, that’s –” Louis swallowed. “That’s – that’s a real-life thing.” Harry sighed, relieved, and Louis asked uncertainly, “You – want to watch it? Me?” Harry nodded rapidly into Louis’ chest, still too embarrassed to face him quite.

Louis thought out his options. It was game day; they needed to be focused. Louis could say no, but if he did, he knew Harry would feel rejected and they’d both be thinking about it all day. But if Louis said yes, there was the possibility that Harry’d be thinking about _that_ all day, too – and also, something could go wrong, and Harry could have a flashback, or somehow be hurt. Louis bit his lip; he didn’t want to risk Harry’s well-being _any_ day, but _especially_ not on a game day, when he couldn’t skip around classes to check on Harry, and not when Louis couldn’t just take Harry home right after school and take care of him. Basically, Louis was a little screwed, kind of.

“It’s – it’s fine, Lou; you don’t have to,” Harry muttered awkwardly after Louis was quiet for so long, pulling back from Louis and staring at the mattress. “It’s weird; I know.”

“No, no,” Louis cooed a little regretfully, feeling bad for zoning out in his thought process when Harry had just made himself incredibly vulnerable. “No, babe, that’s not – I was just thinking, is all,” he said, pulling Harry back towards him a bit.

Harry was clearly uncomfortable, but he let himself be pulled back to Louis and comforted without fight, and he wrapped his arms around Louis’ neck and back when he got there, needing the attention and reassurance.

“What were you thinking about?” Harry asked, rubbing against Louis’ shirt.

“Thinking about – options,” Louis said, pulling back just slightly. “I just – I _want_ to do it – to do that for you,” he reassured Harry, not missing the way Harry’s eyes lit up a bit in excitement. “I do, and I’ll do that for you, of course. …But not this morning.”

Harry’s face fell, but he nodded regardless. Respecting Louis’ boundaries sweetly.

Louis kissed his nose, and went on to explain, so Harry didn’t go through his day feeling rejected. “It’s just – it’s only because if we – if I showed you this morning, it’d be on your mind all day,” Louis said, opting not to scare Harry with the possibility of something freaking him out, “and it’s game day, so we – we have to focus all day.” Harry’s eyes lit with understanding, then, and he looked a bit better, happier, like he felt more secure. Louis licked his lips and said, “So, how about this: after the game, after we’re done and home and all that…if you’re still up for it, we can do it. If not, it’s not a problem, and we’ll just snog a bit and then pass out, if we’re tired, and we can do that some other time. Deal?”

Harry smiled shyly and nodded, leaning in to kiss Louis’ lips quickly. “Deal,” he said, flushing a pink tint.

Harry’s wandering hand stopped around Louis’ hip, then, is fingers stretching to caress the sensitive skin a bit lower, and Louis smiled at Harry’s bitten lip. “Good,” he said, and then rolled away. “Then, I’m going to go shower. I’ll be quick.” He leaned down and kissed Harry chastely, and then walked to the bathroom, glad Anne left for work early in the mornings so there was no risk of being caught with morning wood.

\---

“That’s a shiner,” Stan said by way of greeting as he and Louis made their way into the locker room. Louis could feel the excitement in his veins, could feel his blood thrumming, alive, excited, ready.

Louis grinned despite himself and placed a hand over the broken blotch of skin Harry’d given to his neck that morning.

“What, ‘d Harry turn into a vampire and go crazy on you?” Stan teased right as they walked through the door, and Stan attacked Louis, wrapping his arms around Louis’ shoulders and tilting his head towards Louis’ neck, growling like a hungry animal and rasping out phrases like “I _vant_ to _suuuck_ your _bloooood_ ” as Louis laughed and squirmed to get away.

They heard a conspicuous cough and Louis looked up to see Harry and a few other guys already in the room. Louis laughed a bit, finally shoving Stan off of him. “Oh, shut it,” he said good-naturedly over his shoulder as he made his way towards Harry, who was blushing a bit.

Harry smiled up at him, and Louis smiled back right before he leaned forward and pressed a kiss onto Harry’s lips, wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist for a hug afterwards – wanting the affection, but also keeping it clean so they didn’t get distracted from their pre-game focus. “Hi,” Louis murmured around a smile.

“Hi, there,” Harry answered, amused, as his arms wrapped around Louis’ back as well.

“Oi! Vampire boy!” Stan called out.

Louis felt Harry blush against him and pulled out of the hug to glare at his best mate, who grinned impishly.

Harry turned around and looked at Stan in questioning, and Stan beckoned him over. “Need to go over our pre-game rituals with you newbies.” Harry turned back to Louis for a second, grabbed and squeezed his fingers briefly, and then walked over to Stan, leaving Louis to watch him go before turning to his locker and pulling out his maroon Central High Mustangs football uniform. Louis got ready in the solitude, utilizing the rare alone-time to get his head in line.

\---

Two hours later, the game was going well. Louis hustled down-field, cutting to the right to shake a defender. “Harry!” he shouted, seeing a shot clear for him. Harry glanced over and passed immediately, the nearly horizontal kick twisting his body. Louis received the ball on the fly, twisted around to protect it from a side tackle by a mid-fielder, and shot, falling to the ground from the curve of the kick. Louis picked himself up just in time to see it fly past the goalkeeper’s dive, and smiled, fist flying in the air once before he moved back to center-field, hearing their school cheering.

Louis got the ball in front of him, passing it directly to Stan, who was still quicker than Harry off the cuff. Stan barreled forward, and Louis pushed through the thick of the sweepers, shouldering them out of the way and sprinting to get away. Stan saw a slide coming towards him and called Louis’ name out, and Louis received the ball only to have it stolen within a second. Swearing, Louis sprinted back around, fighting to get the ball back, but the player passed it to a teammate from the other side. Louis guarded, and saw Harry sprinting up from behind and to the side, sliding down and kicking the ball from between the player’s legs, punting it towards Louis. Louis shouted wordlessly, receiving the ball and passing it off immediately to Stan, who passed it to Harry as soon as Harry was up and level. Harry faked right and cut left, spinning in defense as he did, and kicked it into the net. The goalie intercepted this one and threw it back, and Harry grimaced as he ran down-field, where the goalie drop-kicked it.

Louis followed, but Harry and Stan got there first, so he stalled, zig-zagging a bit to be able to get wherever they needed a target. Stan and Harry ended up passing the ball back and forth, all the way back into the other team’s half of the field, and then Stan faked a pass to Harry and sent it to Louis instead. Louis intercepted it quickly and ran down the field as the timer went off to signal the end of the game, only to fly to the ground when a player from the other team shoved him. Louis hit the ground and groaned as he rolled over and stood back up immediately, but the referee was already blowing his whistle, his hand pointed towards Louis.

“Direct,” the referee called out, and took the football and meticulously placed it. The other team backed off, forming a wall of blue uniforms, and Louis stood in front of the ball, waiting for the signal. When it came, Louis backed off two steps, analyzing the goalie’s movements – static, side to side, fingers dancing; the goalie was ready. Louis deliberately let his eyes rake the top left corner, knowing the goalie would see it, and then ran and kicked the football, sending it in an arc to the right side. The goalie dove completely the wrong way, and Louis’ team all roared as it went in, and just like that, it was over, and the Central High Mustangs had won their first game of the season, 6-4.

Louis smiled as his team surrounded him, and they all cheered as one. They eventually scattered from their little huddle and formed a line, walking to shake hands with the other team, their coaches, and the referees before they all broke and ran into the locker room to change, eager. Louis hung back and slung an arm around Harry’s back, leaning in to whisper, “You look really fit in maroon, Mustang.”

Harry blushed but quipped back, “Just call me ‘Sally’.”

Louis laughed and he let go of Harry, and they both broke into a jog to get to the locker room.

\---

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Louis asked Harry warily. Anne was asleep, and Harry’s house was quiet, save for Harry’s slightly-heavy breathing, and the dry sound of their hands sliding together as they played idly with each other’s fingers.

After the coach had dismissed the team and they all showered and got dressed again, Louis had shoved Harry off towards Anne, urging him to go have dinner with her to celebrate his first game on varsity. Harry squeezed Louis’ hand and left, and they agreed to see each other later, that Harry would text Louis when he and his mum got home. Louis had kissed his cheek and then taken his sisters and mum to dinner, and they all discussed the game and their days at school, laughing and making too much noise and too much mess. (Louis left a larger tip than usual to make up for it.) After dinner, they all went home.

Louis kissed the girls goodnight and ran up to his room to grab an overnight bag, telling his mum he’d be staying at Harry’s that night. Once in his room, Louis had grabbed another pair of clothes, lube and a condom, and his toothbrush and contact case, snagging his phone charger at the last second. He piled it all up and zipped the bag shut carefully before heading downstairs and kissing his mum’s cheek. He headed to the door, but Jay grabbed his arm and stopped him, mouth set firmly and eyes soft.

“Be careful tonight, yeah?” She’d said sincerely.

Louis blushed for some reason and looked down before he said, “Mum, we’re not – we’re not doing that.”

Jay’s eyebrows had furrowed a bit, but she didn’t waver. “Regardless,” she said, and then smiled softly. “He’s a special boy; I can tell.”

Louis smiled. “He is.” He leaned forward and kissed his mum again, and that time, she let him go.

Now, Harry nodded and shuffled forward, letting his bent knees rest on top of Louis’. “I am,” he said quietly, cheeks dusting light pink. “I want – I wanna see it.”

Louis nodded, and he leaned forward, going in for a kiss. Harry obliged happily, and Louis asked between kisses, “Want me to get you off first?”

Harry’s breath hitched, so Louis smiled and grabbed behind Harry’s bent knees, straightening his legs out and pulling him in, so Harry slid, giggling, onto Louis’ lap, flailing about for balance, which he found by wrapping his arms around Louis’ neck.

“How are we –”

Harry’s question cut off when Louis rolled his hips up, slightly against Harry’s. Louis watched Harry’s face carefully for any sign of nerves, but Harry just nodded, eyes a little wide, and his hands moved to hold on to Louis’ shoulders. Harry bit his lip and blushed, and he looked down at their hips, watching as he grinded his hips minutely, leaving Louis to do most of the work - not that Louis minded; he liked giving Harry the pleasure, and knew Harry was still uncomfortable chasing his own.

Louis’ hand moved down to rest on Harry’s hip, right above his bum, and he squeezed just a bit. One of Harry’s hands snuck down, over Louis’ chest, down his tummy, and around his hip, and Louis breathed out a sigh when Harry’s fingers danced underneath his jeans, teasing the skin of his bum. Louis’ breath came out a little shaky as he shivered from the feather-light touch, and Harry leaned in to kiss his neck.

“Lou,” Harry began quietly. Louis hummed, and Harry asked shyly, “Will you – will you, erm. Can you put your hands…” Harry leaned back just far enough to get to Louis’ hands and, not looking at Louis, Harry slid Louis’ hands behind him, down his back, and onto his bum. Louis watched carefully, and he bent his fingers, gliding his fingertips across Harry’s clothed bum. Harry’s eyelids fluttered, and his cheeks burned, and he bit his lip before he admitted, “I wanna know why you like it when I do it.”

Louis smiled a little and leaned in to kiss him then, and Harry leaned forward to chase his lips when he pulled back a bit. Leaning forward exposed his bum more, and Louis’ hands spread as wide as they could, grabbing Harry’s lovely little bum and squeezing a little.

Harry made a breaking kind of sound into Louis’ mouth, his tongue lazily slipping over Louis’, and his arms wove around his neck as he pulled his hips against Louis’. Louis squeezed Harry’s bum again, and pulled his hips in even harder, creating more friction that Harry whined at, his fingers digging into Louis’ shirt.

“Off, off, off,” Harry murmured, pulling at Louis’ t-shirt, and suddenly, Louis was frantic with the need to feel Harry’s skin against his own.

Louis raised his arms and Harry yanked the shirt over his head, and before he could do anything, Louis tugged gently at the hem of Harry’s, hard enough that Harry would notice, but soft enough that he could pretend he hadn’t if he didn’t want his shirt off yet.

“Yeah,” Harry breathed, and his arms went up, allowing Louis to pull his shirt off as well.

With the shirt off, Louis’ hands slid down Harry’s back and onto his bum again, pulling their hips together, and Harry ducked down, sucking on Louis’ neck and shoulder and collarbones, making Louis breathe out a quiet groan.

Harry’s breathing got heavier and he pressed closer – so close his upper arms were on Louis’ shoulders, rather than forearms, his ragged breathing ghosting across Louis’ ear. Louis shivered and he pulled Harry’s hips in harder, their hardened cocks grinding solidly.

“Louis,” Harry murmured breathlessly against Louis’ ear, sounding undone already.

Louis let one hand drag across the bottom of Harry’s thigh, wrapping underneath the bend of Harry’s knee, behind him since Harry’s legs were getting so long. Harry liked the touch, so Louis’ hand slid back and forth along it, other hand pulling and pushing Harry’s hips as he rolled his own. Louis licked a stripe up Harry’s neck, and Harry moaned, so Louis bit down gently and let his tongue flicker back and forth on the skin.

Harry gasped and his head lolled to the side, his hands stretching down Louis’ back and scratching up it, hard enough to leave temporary marks, and Harry came in his pants, hips stilling where they were pressed hard against Louis’ . “I love you,” Harry nearly sobbed with the ecstasy, and Louis kissed across Harry’s shoulder and neck and around his face, murmuring sweet things as he went.

Harry finally relaxed and went nearly limp, like most times after he came, and his head drooped against Louis’ shoulder, his slightly sweaty curls leaning on the side of Louis’ face as Louis held him, caressing his back softly while Harry came down from his orgasm.

Eventually, Louis felt Harry nosing up his neck, pressing the softest, barely-there kisses to his skin, driving Louis crazy.

“Thank you,” Harry mumbled, and then he was leaning back, hands coming up to cup Louis’ face. Harry looked seriously at Louis, and Louis smiled a bit in response until Harry mirrored it, and then leaned in to kiss him.

They stared at each other next, Louis carefully and Harry with a mix of excited and nervous, and then Harry bit his lip, his hands drifting lower and lower on Louis’ chest, Louis’ stomach, finally coming to a stop on the waistband of Louis’ athletic shorts, his long fingers picking at it to that it just barely popped back onto Louis’ stomach.

“Are you ready?” Louis asked, taking Harry’s hands off his waistband and folding his fingers between them. “You can tell me, if you want to stop at any time, and I will, okay? I swear. Please don’t be afraid to say something.”

Harry nodded and kissed each of Louis’ hands, and then unfolded them. “Can I – can I take them off?” He asked, eyes flickering from Louis’ face to Louis’ bottoms. Louis nodded, and Harry’s fingers wrapped underneath the shorts, hands sliding to the sides, near Louis’ hips, before pulling them down. Louis raised his hips off the bed, and Harry dragged them down slowly, letting Louis bend his knees to pull his feet from them.

Louis sat still, his legs spread, one foot on either side of Harry, who was sitting cross-legged in front of him. His cock twitched when Harry stared at his, sucking on his lower lip, and Harry’s eyes widened fractionally before he looked up at Louis’ face, pupils a little blown. “Can I – them, too?” He asked quietly, and Louis nodded with a soft, careful smile.

Harry was nervous, Louis could tell, but of what, he wasn’t sure. Was he nervous because he was worried about having a flashback of his father? Was he nervous because he’d never done it before, in that fumbling way that Louis was nervous about it _his_ first time? Louis didn’t know, but as he lifted his hips and let Harry pull his boxers off, he hoped for the second option.

Harry gasped when he saw Louis’ cock, making Louis blush just a tiny bit. (It wasn’t that Louis was _huge_ , but he was decently-endowed, and pretty thick around.)

“Okay?” Louis checked, as Harry’s hands had frozen around Louis’ boxers, still above his knees. “Harry?”

Harry snapped out of it, looked up at Louis, and blushed furiously. He looked down at Louis’ knees and finished pulling his boxers down. “Sorry,” he muttered. Before Louis could reassure him, he added, “You’re – mine’s different than yours.”

“How?” Louis asked curiously, managing to forget his raging erection for a second. He’d seen Harry naked before, once, had even wiped him up around his groin before, but he hadn’t been paying attention, and was so worried about Harry’s reaction he hadn’t even _looked_ at Harry’s cock, afraid Harry’d cry some more.

Harry remained pink, but he looked up at Louis under his lashes and said, “It’s – you’re not, erm. I’m circumcised.”

He said it like he was embarrassed, but Louis’ cock twitched. He’d never been with someone circumcised. “Really?” He asked, and then realized with embarrassment how overly-eager he sounded.

Harry nodded, though, his bottom lip in his mouth, and his eyes flickered back to Louis’ cock. He squirmed. “Lou,” he said, a little urgently, “can you –”

“Right,” Louis said, and his cock gave a throb that had him nearly groaning. “Can you – in my bag, there’s a toothpaste bottle –”

Harry looked confused, but he reached around the foot of the bed and rifled through it nonetheless, producing a bottle he looked at curiously. “Toothpaste?” He echoed as he handed it to Louis.

Louis took the bottle and opened it, dribbling some of its contents onto his palm. “It’s lube,” he reassured Harry as he grasped his cock. He gave a muffled groan. “I didn’t want my sisters asking me about lube, so I put it in an empty toothpaste bottle and kept it in my room.”

Harry’s breath hitched as he raptly watched Louis start to stroke himself, and his voice shook when he said, “’S a good idea, Lou.”

Louis gave him a smile for an answer, but it didn’t matter; Harry’s eyes were glued to his hand on his cock. Louis squeezed a bit on the head on his upstroke and moaned quietly, snapping his mouth shut because he tended to imagine Harry in his typical wanking fantasies, and he didn’t want to slip and say something, and freak Harry out or make him uncomfortable.

Louis’ eyes opened – he didn’t even remember shutting them – when he felt Harry’s fingers on one of his thighs. Louis looked up at Harry, whose eyes were flickering between Louis’ cock and Louis’ face. “Can I – will you let me do it?” Harry asked almost timidly. Louis’ heart nearly stopped.

“I – do you want to?” Louis asked, and Harry nodded, breathing out a plea Louis couldn’t even understand. The hungry look in his eyes was enough, though, and Louis took his hand from his cock, grabbed the lube, and smeared some onto his palm. “Go ahead, whenever you’re ready,” Louis said, locking his knees straight and planting his hands behind him to watch.

Harry reached for his cock, hesitated, and leaned in to give Louis a kiss, licking into his mouth in a way Louis could only ever describe as _sweet_. When he broke the kiss, Louis snuck forward and gave Harry a quick little peck, just to lighten the tension up and make Harry giggle. Harry put a hand on Louis’ thigh, and his fingers of the other hand trembled as they wrapped slowly around Louis’ cock, squeezing just a bit too hard to be comfortable, making Louis grunt.

“Loosen up, just a bit,” he said softly, and Harry complied immediately, babbling apologies. “No, it’s fine, babe,” Louis interrupted quickly, stroking the side of Harry’s face with the hand that hadn’t been lubed up. Harry relaxed, closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and exhaled.

After a second, he wrapped Louis’ cock up again, and slid his hand slowly up and down, his expression fascinated. Louis watched Harry even as he felt the incredible sensations, and after a while, Harry’s hand slowed down and his face grew frustrated. “What’s wrong?” Louis asked, slowly beginning to worry he hadn’t made the best decision for Harry.

“It’s – it’s all _wrong_ ,” Harry muttered, twisting his wrist at an awkward angle and trying to stoke Louis that way. “It’s – it feels wrong.” Harry looked up at Louis with a guilty face, and Louis furrowed his brows. “I’m not doing it right, am I?” Harry asked, looking a little embarrassed as he took his hand off. Louis’ cock gave a sad and angry throb, and Louis tried to focus through it.

“Hazza, you were doing fine,” he said truthfully.

“But you – when you do _me_ , like – make me…make me come… I, like – it’s like I’m _burning_ , or something, but in a good way.” Harry suddenly looked like a heartbroken toddler. “You weren’t burning.”

Louis couldn’t help but let a short laugh of adoration fall through. “Harry, you don’t catch fire right away, though,” he reasoned. “Why would I? It’s not exactly a two-minute process, babe.” Harry looked thoughtful, and Louis asked, “Do you want me to do it?”

“No!” Harry protested with a pout, like Louis had threatened to take away a kid’s favorite toy. Harry shifted on the blankets. “Just, maybe if I could – like, get a different angle, or – or something, I could make it better,” he explained.

Louis didn’t bother telling him it was fine; he knew Harry would just keep begging. “Well, here,” he said, shifting away from the wall. “Get behind me, and then you can reach around and do it. Like you’d do yourself, just with mine instead. If you still want to,” he added hastily, not wanting to pressure Harry.

But Harry brightened visibly and moved to get around him, spreading his legs once he was against the wall. Louis looked over his shoulder as he backed up, pressing his back right up against Harry’s chest. Harry grunted, uncomfortable when his bare back hit the cold wall, but his arms wound around Louis before Louis could move away. “Just – like this?” Harry asked uncertainly as he grabbed Louis’ cock again.

Louis hummed in response and let his head fall back against Harry’s shoulder. Harry started off a little slower than Louis typically did, but it was still nice. “What else?” Harry asked. “What else do you do?”

Louis inhaled sharply when Harry added a twist towards the head – something Louis’d never tried, as squeezing was usually his thing. It felt heavenly. “Oh, that was good,” he told Harry quietly, and felt Harry grin against his neck, where his chin was hooked over Louis’ shoulder to watch what he was doing. “Erm, usually, like, do my balls. Or nipples,” Louis added as an alternative when he realized Harry might think Louis _wanted_ him to play with his balls.

Not that he’d protest, but, well.

Harry seemed to take the bait with the nipples, because his free hand slid around Louis’ abs and cruised up slowly, a fingertip tracing around Louis’ nipple as his other hand stroked Louis’ cock solidly. Louis leaned his weight fully back on Harry, closing his eyes and letting his sounds come freely, not shutting them up like he typically would because he knew Harry would want the reassurance that he was doing well.

Louis licked his lips when Harry discovered Louis liked squeezing at the top, and Louis’ hands landed on Harry’s thighs, digging into the skin a bit when he felt Harry squeeze and twist at the top of his cock, Harry’s fingers of the other hand playing slowly with Louis’ nipple.

“Oh, Hazza, that’s – wow, that’s good,” Louis said a little breathlessly, trying desperately to keep his hips still for Harry, not wanting Harry to be scared off by the movements. He decided it was pointless when Harry leaned in and started kissing Louis’ jaw and neck again. Louis breathed out, trying his best to control his own reactions, but Harry started speeding up, and his free hand started caressing all over his torso, slipping down to trace around Louis’ belly-button. Louis’ hips jerked up, fucking into Harry’s fist, and Harry’s breath came shaky onto Louis’ collarbone.

Harry kissed up the side of Louis’ neck, where he paused at his ear to say, “You – you look really good.” Louis groaned in response, and Harry added, “But I want – can you – come, Lou.” Harry leaned his head almost sideways and latched onto the mark he’d left on Louis’ neck, kissing and sucking it in a way that drove Louis _insane_.

“Oh, fuck,” Louis groaned, pushing his head back hard onto Harry’s shoulder to give Harry easier access to the mark. Harry continued his stroking, twisting, squeezing, caressing, and sucking, and Louis bit his lip. “Fuck, Harry, keep – oh, shit –”

One of Louis’ hands dug into Harry’s thigh, and the other covered Harry’s hand, which was currently on his sternum. Louis groaned and then gasped quietly as he came, spilling onto Harry’s hand and down onto his own thigh. Louis tensed up when he came, back going ram-rod straight against Harry and his muscles clenching everywhere, and when he came back down from the high, he went nearly limp against Harry’s chest.

It took Louis nearly half a minute to realize Harry hadn’t moved behind him – his hand was still on Louis’ cock, for God’s sake – and without turning, Louis asked quietly, “Are you okay, baby?”

Louis heard Harry swallow hard behind him and hesitate, but before Louis could turn around to look, Harry said, “I think – I think I…want to do this. Erm. More often, than once every…every sixteen years.”

Louis craned his neck to look at him, then, and smiled, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his cheek. Harry’s eyes looked dazed and even a little glassy, and he was staring at the come on his hand like it was a treasure.

“Want me to clean that off?” Louis offered, pointing at Harry’s hand.

Harry blushed, but he didn’t answer, so Louis let it go, and shifted around. He found his boxers, clinging awkwardly to the edge of the bed in that way clothes can do – how they _should_ be affected by gravity and fall, but they don’t, but it’s not like Louis’d complain because if they _did_ fall, he’d have to reach more and he was, frankly, too lazy to want to do it – and grabbed them, folding his legs and origami-ing into them. Once he was covered, he looked around to Harry, and he nearly choked.

Harry blushed fire-engine red when he noticed Louis looking, and quickly moved his come-covered hand from his mouth, starting to stammer out apologies and explanations.

“No, I was – is that – I was only – erm – is that weird? Is that – is that just a – a porn thing? Blame Niall; it’s all Niall’s fault! He made me think about it! I was – erm –”

Louis leaned forward and kissed Harry, tasting the come Harry’d just put to his lips. He licked Harry’s lips, making the motion exaggerated, and then pulled back to look into Harry’s shocked-wide eyes. “It’s alright,” Louis soothed, rubbing Harry’s arm softly. “It’s fine. I’ve done it before; it’s not a bad thing. And it’s not just a porn thing, either,” Louis added kindly.

Harry burned fever-red, but he nodded, Eyes on Louis, Harry slowly lifted his hand back to his mouth and deliberately licked a finger. His eyes fluttered shut for a second, and Louis swallowed a little tighter than usual.

“Oh,” Harry said.

“Have you ever done yours?” Louis asked, gesturing vaguely to Harry’s crotch.

Harry’s eyes went even wider and he shook his head, his blush slowly dying down. “I – didn’t ever… I thought it was, like, weird? To – do that?”

“Nah,” Louis reassured, sweetly scratching at Harry’s kneecap idly. “It’s alright. Just so you know. For, like, future references.” Louis tried to contain his smirk, but Harry giggled, and it ruined his strength.

Harry seemed like he wanted to say something but hadn’t quite figured it out yet, so Louis stayed quiet, rubbing at Harry’s thigh idly. Eventually, Harry took a deep breath and said quietly, “It – I thought it’d taste really, erm – like, super salty? ‘Cause it, like – everyone says that, right? But I thought it’d be more, or something, ‘cause of the game, and like, sweat, or whatever, – but it – it didn’t.”

Louis nodded, trying to be super-casual so Harry didn’t get any impressions either way. “It’s more on, like, your diet, and stuff, the way it tastes.” He shrugged, “You have some control over it, but for the most part it’s always gonna be at least a little salt-ish.”

Harry’s eyes widened. “You can – what foods can you make it taste like?”

Louis saw the wheels turning in Harry’s head, and tried not to laugh. “It’s not like that, like – more like flavor-y kind? Sugary, light, bitter, stuff like that. Like, beer and coffee’s gonna make it bitter, berries and stuff make it sweet-ish, and pineapples and celery’s gonna make it light. Dairy’s gonna make it taste a little foul.”

Harry bit his lip and nodded like he was taking mental notes, so Louis grabbed his clean hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing his fingertips one by one. “I can hear you worrying from here, babe,” he teased gently. “Stop thinking so much; smoke’s comin’ out of your ears.”

Harry giggled quietly but acquiesced. “I just – I wanna know what – what mine tastes like,” he admitted, eyes in his lap.

“Then taste it,” Louis solved easily, shrugging a shoulder.

Harry’s clean hand left Louis’ and moved towards his own groin, and Louis rushed to grab it. “Not now!” He said quickly. “It’s dried by now, it’ll – be all gross and stuff.”

Harry blushed but made a thankful kind of grimace. “Have you – have you tasted your own?” He asked next.

“Sure,” Louis answered honestly. “It’s fine. Normal, even.” He grabbed Harry’s soiled hand and slowly licked a stripe up it, keeping his eyes on Harry as he collected his own come off Harry’s hand onto his tongue.

Harry’s wide eyes were glued to Louis, and the second Louis’ tongue was back in his own mouth, swallowing his own taste, Harry’s mouth was on his, his tongue chasing down its taste. Louis made a noise of surprise, and Harry broke the kiss, only to have Louis grip his chin between fingers and pull him back in. Harry breathed shakily and Louis kept kissing him, slowly shifting around and twisting so that Harry was mostly on his back, and Louis was half-on top of him, a leg between both of Harry’s and an arm around Harry’s hip. Harry wrapped arms around Louis and hummed happily into Louis’ mouth, and they kissed until their lips were sore and Harry’s dried come started irritating his skin too much to stay still any longer.

Harry left the room with a blush to go clean himself off, a new pair of boxers balled up in his fist, and Louis wiped himself down with his shirt, ridding himself of random splotches of his own come, where Harry’s hand had smeared it a bit onto his skin.

When Harry came back in, Louis was lounging back on his bed, and Harry bounced up the length of his bed to hover over Louis, on his hands and knees. Louis tilted his head up for a kiss, which Harry happily gave, and then Harry rolled over and all but collapsed next to Louis, cuddled in.

Louis curled around Harry, and Harry copied the sentiment, and they relaxed easily, their fingers playing together as they snuggled in quiet.

Eventually, though, Harry broke the silence.

“So, do you remember, yesterday, how – how there were…were two things that I wanted to talk about?”

Louis nodded his head, face pressed into Harry’s curls where Harry’s head was tucked under his chin. Harry must’ve felt it, though, because he took a deep breath and said, “I wanted – to talk about Zayn.”


	27. Part 26.

Louis tensed up; Harry could feel it immediately. 

“Before you get upset,” Harry rushed, “it’s good – it’s a good thing about Zayn!” Louis stayed silent and stiff, and Harry rolled over to face him. 

Louis was staring at Harry…not _angrily_ , necessarily, but even his face looked firm, and stern, and unmoving. “Harry,” he said, “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“But –” Harry protested, only to be interrupted.

“Harry, _I don’t want to talk about Zayn_.” 

Harry bit his lip. “Ever?” He asked.

“Ever.” Louis’ face looked kind of cold, in that moment, and twisted a bit like he tasted something sour.

Harry hesitated; Louis (obviously) really didn’t want to talk about Zayn, but Harry didn’t know what to do about what Zayn had said to him. Harry nodded, in the end, going along with what Louis wanted. “Alright,” he said quietly, rolling back over. He tucked his back into Louis’ chest again, bending his knees so his toes fit between Louis’ ankles. As Harry pulled up the covers and slowly pulled Louis’ angrily-tense hand back over his stomach to twist their fingers together, Harry sighed. “I’ll just – I’ll…talk to Liam about it, or something, instead.”

Harry heard Louis sigh behind him, and thought for a second that Louis would give in and ask what Harry wanted to say, but all Harry heard was a quiet, “Goodnight, Harry.”

Harry scooted back even more, and breathed a quiet sigh of relief when Louis realized he wanted to be held closer and tightened his arm around Harry’s waist. “Night, Lou,” he answered in a whisper. “Love you.”

Harry’s eyes closed when Louis pressed a kiss to the back of Harry’s neck. “I love you, too, sweetheart.”

Louis drifted off relatively soon, but Harry, despite his exhaustion, stayed awake a little longer, wondering how he could help Louis get his best friend back, and hoping Louis would understand that Harry’d already forgiven Zayn, mostly.

\---

When Harry woke up the next morning, it was to Louis’ nose snuffling around in the crook of his neck, hands roaming around his back. Harry sighed into the pleasant attention and rolled over, and Louis started kissing his throat. 

“Morning,” Louis murmured after a particularly lovely kiss to Harry’s throat that had Harry fighting to hide his moan. 

“Morning,” Harry answered, and then pulled back as he woke up more. “Are you angry with me?” He asked, looking directly into Louis’ eyes.

Louis watched Harry, and then looked away for a second, sighing and flopping back onto the bed. He covered his eyes with his arm and then answered, “No, I’m not.”

Harry shuffled closer, resting his head on his arm on the pillow, right next to Louis’ head. “Are you lying to make me feel better?” Harry asked earnestly, hoping like anything that Louis would tell the truth.

Louis went silent for a little, but eventually, he said quietly, “Kind of. A little bit.”

Despite knowing it, it still stung, and Harry pulled away to roll once again onto his back. He stared at the ceiling with his hands folded over his bare stomach and said nothing. 

After a little bit, however, Harry heard Louis rolling over and pressing against him. “I’m not – I’m not mad at _you_ ,” Louis sighed. “I’m just pissed off that Zayn had the audacity to even speak to you. I thought I made it pretty fucking clear that I didn’t want him around anymore.”

Harry swallowed and drew shapes over Louis’ hand. “I – he drove me to work the other day,” he admitted.

“You –” Louis started, disbelief coloring his tone, before he cut himself off, closed his eyes and deliberately took a deep breath. He held his breath for a few seconds and then slowly let it out, keeping his eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his nose. “You got in the car with Zayn?” He asked eventually, opening his eyes and moving his fingers from his face to see Harry closely. 

Harry nodded meekly. “Yeah,” he said anxiously. “What’s – what’s so bad about that?”

Louis took a deep breath again and then let it out. “Harry,” he said, and Harry heard the barely-contained frustration brimming in his voice. “Let me get this straight: someone attacks you – makes fun of you, insults you, and heartlessly and mercilessly ridicules you. Your boyfriend is so offended by the things this kid says that he _punches him in the face_ to defend you. And, what, just like that, few days later and your ass just _gets in the fucking car with him_? Harry, do you even – do you even realize how _stupid_ that was?”

Harry squirmed and hesitated. A voice sounding a lot like Karen whispered to him; things like how he didn’t deserve to be yelled at, things like he should stand up for himself, things like Louis could still love him and be mad at the same time. “Don’t – don’t talk to me like that, Lou,” Harry said. It was meant to be forceful and firm, and instead it came out in a whisper and it sounded more sad and desperate than anything else. Harry flipped his hair out of his eyes, irritated that he couldn’t even be sure of himself in standing up for himself. 

However, Harry was proven wrong: he didn’t need to be forceful with Louis.

Louis sighed and sad up, scrubbing a hand over his face. “You’re – okay, you’re right. I’m sorry, Harry,” Louis said sincerely, looking Harry dead in the eyes. “I’m – I’m not – well, I’m upset that you got into a car with Zayn, but – it’s okay. You’re fine; it’s okay.”

Relieved that Louis had listened when Harry stood up for himself – though he knew Louis would, really – Harry swept a hand over Louis’, concern on his face. “Did you really think he’d hurt me?” He asked softly, confused. Sure, Zayn’d been rude, but he wasn’t a mean _person_ ; he wasn’t _violent_. 

Louis shook his head; Harry couldn’t tell if it was an answer or just a movement of his irritation. 

“I – I don’t know,” Louis answered truthfully, “and I don’t want to find out. Please, can you – can you, like, not?”

“Not get in the car with Zayn?” Harry checked, and then shook his head. “I’m not gonna make that promise, Lou. How’m I supposed to know if I'll ever need a ride from Zayn, or something?”

“I’ll be around. I’ll give you rides.”

Harry sighed. “You’re probably not going to be around forever, Lou,” he said, logically.

Louis looked offended, and a little upset. “Why _wouldn’t_ I be around forever?” He demanded.

Harry softened his tone and traced one of Louis’ hands with a finger. “I just mean – you’re going off after you graduate, Louis; how are you going to give me rides?”  
Louis’ face grew almost desperate, and Harry cupped his face with both hands. “Louis,” he said, and his voice shook a little, but it was finally a firm-ish tone. “I love you, more than anyone I’ve ever met, probably, and you’re such a wonderful boyfriend and friend and, just, like, _person_ in general. I love how gentle you are with me, and protective, and how hard you work to make me happy. Don’t think I don’t notice the ridiculous things you do just to make me smile. …But I’m not _yours_ , you know? Like, I’m _yours_ , but I’m not _yours_. …And I - I can get a ride from whoever I want – Zayn included.” Louis made to interrupt, but Harry just raised his voice a little and talked right over him. “And if you’d listen to me, I could tell you what we talked about, because I need advice. If you won’t listen to me, then we can end the conversation now, go get breakfast and forget about the whole thing, and I’ll suck it up and talk to Liam. Or Karen.”

Harry kissed Louis’ lips chastely and then pulled away, letting his hands drop from Louis’ face. He watched Louis carefully, and Louis picked at Harry’s blanket before he shrugged. “Alright,” he said with a weary sigh. “What’d he want?”

\---

Harry sat at the kitchen table, eating quietly across from his mum. Louis had gone home to spend the day with his sisters – the twins were in a school play that night, and Louis wanted to make the day about them, before the actual production. (Harry wondered if Louis had been planning on it all along, or if he’d made the plans to have time to think about Zayn and Harry’s conversation.)

Harry was brought back to reality when Anne’s phone rang, and he glanced down to see _Robin_ flashing across it as he passed it to her. 

His mum took the phone, a light blush across her nose and cheeks, and answered. “Hello?” 

Harry ate quietly, his eyes on her, and noticed when she smiled and her eyes lit up.

“Oh, I’m fine, thanks; what about you?” She asked, absent-mindedly playing with her hair. Her grin brightened even more, and she looked over at Harry. “Oh, Robin, he was _wonderful_ , they won 6-4, and his entire team is _so great_!” 

Harry blushed, but his mum kept gushing over him and his football team, talking about every play or pass Harry was involved in, and every once in a while, Harry heard Robin’s enthusiastic tin from across the table. 

“I – oh, I don’t know what that means,” Harry heard Anne say, and he looked up from his plate. When his mum saw Harry looking, she covered the mouth piece and asked, “Was Lou’s foul – what was it, Robin? … - Was it a direct foul, or an indirect?”

“Direct,” Harry answered, and Anne smiled gratefully and relayed the message.

Harry ate while she chatted, and bit his lip when Anne didn’t say ‘I love you’ before hanging up. “So, Robin’s – Robin’s a footie fan, then?” Harry asked, making a conscious effort for his mum.

Anne tried to hide her smile, but Harry noticed it. “Oh, erm, yeah,” she said. “He’s – he’s really into it. His son never was interested in it, and of course, Robin’s proud of the man he turned into, and all, but he’s admitted once that he wished Mike would’ve played at least _once_.”

“Mike’s his son?” Harry asked, and Anne nodded. “Have you – have you met Mike?” He asked, swallowing tightly. 

Anne’s features softened, but she shook her head. “No, he doesn’t live around here; he’s some big, important person at a publishing company in New Mexico. I’ve said hello to him over the phone, once, when he called while Robin and I were watching a movie, but I’ve never met him.”

“Oh,” Harry said. He hesitated, and his mum stayed quiet, and Harry hesitantly suggested, “You could – I mean, if – if you wanted…to…erm. You could, maybe invite him. To a game, I mean. If he, like, wanted to come. I’m not his kid, or whatever, but…but if he wanted to see a high school football game, he – he could do that.”

Anne looked elated, and she set down her fork and bit her lip. “Really?” She asked happily. Harry nodded, trying his best to smile, and Anne clasped her hands. “Oh, Harry, he would love that, I bet! He’s said a few times he’d like to see you play, but…well, he never thought you’d be alright with him showing up!” Harry didn’t even have to fake a smile at how happy his mum was, and he was glad he’d invited Robin, after all. 

“Yeah,” Harry said, nodding. “Maybe we – maybe we could, like, go out for dinner after, or something. With Louis, of course,” Harry hastened to add, not wanting to be alone with Robin and his mum. “Just like, something on the way home, or something?”

Anne smiled and reached across the table to squeeze Harry’s hand. “Thank you, Harry,” she said sincerely. “Do you – do you think maybe next Friday’s game, or…?” She trailed off, clearly waiting for Harry to come up with a date, so Harry nodded, smiling a little tightly. 

“I’ll – I’ll ask Lou if he can have dinner next week, and, like – yeah, if he can, then sure.” Harry shrugged, trying to downplay the situation so he wouldn’t start second-guessing himself, and Anne squeezed his hand one last time before she fidgeted her way through finishing lunch. 

\---

_Are you still mad at me? .xx_

Harry sent the text after dinner, biting his lip nervously. Louis and him hadn’t spoken much the entire day, though Harry knew it was to be expected, if he was spending time with his sisters. Louis was very attentive to his girls.

But Harry’s phone went off almost instantly, Louis replying.

_I was never mad at you, remember?_

Harry scrunched up his nose as he read the text, and typed out, _You were mad, Lou._

Harry’s phone buzzed. _Yeah, but not at YOU! :) it’s all good, babe. What’s up?_

Harry let the subject drop; he had more important things on his mind. _Erm, mind coming to dinner next Fri after the game?_ He sent.

_…course not?_

Harry rolled his eyes at the tone of Louis’ text, envisioning the strange and confused look he would have on. _It’s with Robin and Mum, I invited him if you can have dinner with us. He wants to see us play? Idk_

_That’s cool, sure!:) sounds like a plan._

Harry smiled in relief. 

Before he could text back, his phone went off, getting an incoming call from Louis. Harry smiled and answered, putting the phone up to his ear. “Hello?”

A tiny, high-pitched voice squeaked through the phone. “ _Harry?_ ”

Harry grinned. “Yes? Who’s this?”

“ _Harry? It’s Phoebe._ ”

Harry’s smile grew a bit, and he answered, “Oh, hi, Phoebe. How are you? …Does Louis know you have his phone?”

There was a muffled sound, and then Phoebe’s voice came back on. “ _Erm, no, so you can’t tell him!_ ” Harry laughed, and Phoebe continued, “ _I want you to come to my play tonight! Can you come? It’s at seven, and it’s in my school’s auditorium. I’m a mouse!_ ”

Harry laughed. “Louis told me! Erm, yeah, sweetie, of course I can come.”

Phoebe squeaked. “ _Really?!_ ” 

“Really. Seven, right? It starts at seven?”

“ _Yeah, at seven. Oh, but if you come early, then you can get really good seats! Sarah Anderson said her mum said she’d get the best seats, but I bet if you guys go early you can get bester ones._ ”

Harry smiled over the phone. “Sure, thing, sweetie. I’ll be there, I promise.”

“ _Thank you, Harry! And you don’t have to bring us flowers, or anything. Louis already said he would._ ”

Harry laughed. “Alright, I’ll keep that in mind.”

“ _Oh, and –_ ” Harry heard Louis’ voice, suddenly, in the background, yelling around the house asking if anyone’d seen his phone. “ _I have to go! Bye!_ ”   
Before Harry could answer, the line went dead, and Harry grinned. Then he saw the clock and yelped: Phoebe’d just barely given Harry an hour to get ready and get there. 

Harry hopped off the couch and went upstairs. His phone rang just as he reached his room, and he glanced at the caller ID before he laughed and answered. “You still have your brother’s phone, Pheebs?” He asked with a giggle.

“ _What? No, it’s Lou._ ” Harry couldn’t even feel bad for outing Phoebe; he just laughed at Louis’ confusion. “ _Phoebe called you?_ ”

“Awe, don’t tell her I told you!” Harry protested.

“ _So, yes, Phoebe called you?_ ” Louis repeated, laughter in his voice.

“Yeah, she wanted me to come to her play. Is that alright? Only, I kind of already promised I’d be there…” Harry trailed off, afraid Louis might not want him there when he was upset with him only that morning. 

Louis answered, sounding a little hurt. “ _Why wouldn’t it be alright? You know all the girls love you, Harry._ ”

“No, I know,” Harry trailed off, looking at his carpet and wondering if he was just being stupid and oversensitive. He wondered if Louis could taste the tension through the phone, or if Harry was just coming up with it on his own. “I just…after, like, the Zayn stuff…” Harry trailed off again and heard a sigh over the phone. 

“ _Harry, babe, I said I wasn’t mad at you, yeah? It’s fine. We’re fine. …Did you want me to come pick you up?_ ”

Harry heaved a sigh of relief. 

“ _I love you_ ,” Louis added suddenly. 

Harry smiled, feeling his own blush. “I love you, too,” he replied. “And, erm, yeah, that’d be appreciated… What time do I need to be ready? Phoebe demanded we get good seats.”

“ _Can you be ready in, like, a half-hour?_ ” 

Harry glanced down at his outfit and grimaced, but acquiesced. “Sounds fine,” he answered, “but don’t expect me to be looking dapper, or anything. Jeans and a nice shirt okay?”

Louis laughed fondly over the phone. “ _Harry, it’s an elementary school play_ ,” he teased. “ _As long as you don’t show up naked, I don’t think they care what you’re wearing. I have to go, now; Daisy’s insisting she doesn’t remember her cat-lines. I’ll be there in half an hour, alright?_ ”

“Alright, see you then,” Harry answered, hanging up and throwing open the doors to his closet. “Mum, I’m going to the twins’ play!” He shouted as he whipped off his shirt in favor of a nicer one. Sure, Louis had said it was completely casual and informal, but Louis had the gift of looking the way he did; he could pull garbage bags off.

Anne came into his room as Harry pulled up a pair of un-ripped jeans. (They were a bit tight, but Harry ignored it.) “What was that?” She asked as she leaned against his doorframe.

Harry threaded a belt through his waistband as he answered, “Daisy and Phoebe – you know, Louis’ twin sisters? – they’re having some school play, and Phoebe called and invited me.”

“Phoebe has a phone?” Anne asked, eyebrows raised a bit. “I knew Jay’s family was _wealthy_ , but –”

Harry interrupted his mum with a little laugh. “No, no,no, Phoebe doesn’t have a phone,” he assured her. “They’re rich, but they’re really not, like, _spoiled_. Not like that, anyway. She took Louis’ phone and called.”

Anne laughed fondly at the antics of a little girl, and then nodded. “Well, alright,” she allowed. “When will you be home?”

Harry squinted up at her in surprise. He’d never had a curfew before. “Erm…I dunno? Do I…do I need to start being home at certain times?”

Anne folded her arms – not sternly, just shifting, Harry noticed – and looked at Harry evenly. “I just – you’ve been spending all your time together, the last few months, yeah?”

“Not _all_ the time,” Harry said quickly, “’cause we both have jobs and stuff, but – erm, yeah, a lot? I mean, he’s my ride to and from school, and we’re on the same team, and we do homework together, and sleep over…” Harry swallowed and looked up at his mum sheepishly, though a knot was forming in his stomach. “Does it bother you?” He asked.

Anne sighed and came in, sitting down on Harry’s bed. “It doesn’t,” Anne admitted, “but he’s getting ready to go away, you know, after he graduates. I just don’t want you to get too attached and be heartbroken and lost when he’s gone.”

Harry swallowed and sat down with his mother. “You…you think we’ll stay together, though…right? You –” Harry licked his lips. “You think Louis will stay with me, right?” He asked nervously, having thought about his and Louis’ relationship secretly quite a bit.

Anne made a noise of sympathy as she scratched softly through Harry’s hair. The touch was a little strange – Anne and Harry had slowly been getting more touch-y with each other, but Harry found he liked the new-found closeness with his mother – but Harry leaned into it, suddenly needing some comfort. “I think Louis will do whatever’s right for you, in the long run. Whatever that may be.”

Harry stared into his mum’s eyes, trying to imagine a way that being without Louis could possibly be good for him, and struggling to fit a scenario to it. “I don’t think anything but him could be right for me, Mum,” he admitted quietly. He closed his eyes for a second and took a breath, and was shocked to find it was slightly shaky. 

“Oh, I need to be getting ready for the play,” He said, leaning away from his mum’s touch. “No time to be wallowing over something in months’ time.” Harry stood decisively, shaking the emotions from him. When he looked back to his mum, though, she looked a little emotional, so Harry bent awkwardly to hug her. “Thanks, Mum,” he said quietly as he hugged her. 

Anne didn’t reply, but she hugged Harry tighter, and when they let go, she stood and squeezed his hand. “Have fun,” she said with a smile, “and be obnoxious. Little girls like people to make a big deal of everything they do.”

Harry smiled and vowed to do just that, and finished getting ready when his mum left his room.

\---

Daisy the Alley Cat chase Phoebe the Mouse onstage, both squealing things loudly and overdramatically. It was adorable, but Harry wasn’t laughing, and neither was Louis beside him.

When Louis had picked Harry up, they held hands over the gearshift while Louis talked animatedly about how excited the twins were, and how adorable they were both being, trying to be in character early – Louis explained how Daisy had been swiping at Phoebe all afternoon, and how Phoebe had been scurrying around the house with a block of cheese, trying to twitch her nose whenever she smelled anything. 

The auditorium had been about half-empty when they arrived, and Harry and Louis snagged enough seats for all of Louis’ family happily enough – Harry told Louis about Sarah Anderson and her mum, and Louis made funny faces the whole time, pretending Harry was Mrs. Anderson. 

The play had started a bit awkwardly, with a poor child having a miniature bout of stage fright and another who couldn’t stop waving at his parents, but eventually, they got on with it and it progressed. Louis, who apparently had been forced to memorize the script for the twins’ sake, squeezed the hand Harry was holding on the armrest and hissed, “They’re about to come out!”

Phoebe came out first, sniffing around and scurrying around the stage randomly until a giant mouse-trap prop was placed at the side of the stage by a conniving-looking Daisy who peeked around the curtain for dramatic effect, making Harry giggle. Phoebe the Mouse was distracted by the cheese, but noticed the trap just in time, and Harry watched, an idiotic smile on his face, as she tried to contemplate how to get it out without setting the trap off. Just as Daisy appeared on the other side of the stage, a small commotion stirred up down the row, next to Jay. 

Louis looked over first and froze. "What is he _doing_ here?!" Louis hissed, prompting Harry to look over at his boyfriend to see what happened. Harry’s brow furrowed when Louis immediately dropped Harry’s hand and flung it away from him, like it was toxic. Harry looked down the row and saw a man crouching next to Jay, on the end-seat, talking in what appeared to be a soothing manner. As Harry watched, he found that the man wasn’t speaking to Jay, but rather across her, coaxingly at Fliss, who was clutching her mum’s arm and shaking her head grumpily. Suddenly, she pointed down the row towards Harry, and the man looked straight at him. Louis tensed even more, his spine going straight and stiff.

“Stay calm,” Louis whispered, barely enough to hear him, but before Harry could question it, the man was making his way down the row toward Harry, past the other Tomlinsons. 

As he passed Louis, Louis didn’t draw up his feet for the man, making his way past him difficult. The man looked down at Louis, supremely annoyed by it, and greeted, “Louis.” 

Louis reluctantly nodded back at him, eyes returning to watch the twins muck around on stage. Harry was nervous and confused.

As the man passed Harry, though, he discovered why there was such unease. 

The man sat down next to Harry, looking him up and down, and then stuck out his hand. “Are you a friend of Louis’?” He asked. Before Harry could answer, the man introduced himself. “I’m Mark; I’m Louis’ dad.”


	28. Part 27.

Louis’ stomach plummeted. One second, he was holding Harry’s hand, having a good time as he watched his little sisters play on a stage, having the time of their lives. 

The next, he was practically flinging Harry’s hand away like it was ablaze and trying with all his might not to glare at Mark. 

Mark, who came and sat right next to Harry. Mark, who introduced himself to Harry. Mark, who asked Harry’s name. Mark, who could get records to anyone’s file.

Louis quickly leaned forward, interrupting Harry’s stammered-out introduction. “This is Liam, Mar-Dad,” Louis said, pressing a finger into Harry’s thigh hard enough to bruise. 

Harry hissed through his teeth at the pressure – Louis felt bad, but, well – and smiled tightly. He stuck his hand out and said charmingly, “Liam Payne; nice to meet you.”

Mark tried talking more to Harry, but Lottie shushed them, pointing indignantly to the stage. Louis could’ve kissed her right then. 

For more than one reason, Louis hated Mark right then, but one of them was the fact that Louis could no longer enjoy the play. Instead, he had to try and think up any ways his sisters could possibly accidentally undermine Harry’s ‘Liam’ identity, while keeping a close ear on whatever Mark could possibly say to Harry.

Thankfully, Mark didn’t say much, and thankfully, Louis was an ace liar and could think quickly, preparing an entire back-story. 

The rest of the play was uncomfortable for all the Tomlinsons, save for the twins, who acted on obliviously, and Harry. Louis felt horrible for putting Harry into the situation, though he knew it wasn’t anyone’s fault; who’d’ve thought Mark would decide to be a father at an elementary school play, for Christ’s sake?

Beside him, Harry stiffened and subtly leaned more toward Louis, seeking comfort Louis couldn’t easily give without Mark seeing. Louis pressed his arm onto the armrest, sealing his arm against Harry’s. Harry relaxed just slightly and pressed back against it, and he crossed his legs – one knee over the other – and the crossed-over foot nudged Louis’ leg. Louis pressed back, hoping to say with his touch what he couldn’t with his words. 

After the play was over, the Tomlinsons stood, and Mark and Jay went backstage to pick up the twins. 

“Are you alright?” Louis asked as soon as they were out of Mark’s earshot. 

Harry nodded. “I’m okay,” he said, though his voice sounded like he wasn’t entirely sure. 

Louis relaxed and squeezed Harry’s fingers subtly. Harry squeezed back tight.

“Why Liam?” He asked suddenly.

Louis had the decency to blush. “I just – he can get into records,” Louis answered slowly. “And I don’t want him messing around in yours. Especially if he somehow finds out about us.”

Harry only nodded, though, and before Louis could add anything onto the statement, Harry was nearly bowled over by the twins, both squealing, “Harry! Harry, you came! Did you like it? Were we good?”

Harry froze, looking up at Louis with a deer-in-the-headlights face. 

“’Harry’?” Mark echoed confusedly, and Harry bit his lip.

Louis forced out a laugh and glanced at Mark. “I wouldn’t contest them on this one,” he said, trying to be wise. “They call him that, ‘cause his hair, obviously, but, ah…don’t bother trying to tell them it isn’t his real name.” Jay forced out a laugh along with Louis (Louis would have to buy her a fruit basket, or something), and Mark’s face relaxed.

“Well, what do you all say we go to dinner? Liam, you, too!” He said enthusiastically.

Harry, still biting his lip, shifted on his feet and his eyes darted over to Louis. Louis rushed out, “I’ve got to take him home – his mum’s really strict, and stuff, so…”

“Ah, what a shame,” Mark said easily. He moved and reached out a hand to Harry, which Harry supplied his own a little slowly, and as Mark and Harry shook hands, Louis wanted to be sick. “Well, maybe next time, then,” Mark said. “It was good to meet you,” he added as he clapped Harry’s shoulder so hard Harry nearly stumbled.

“It was nice meeting you, too,” Harry lied awkwardly. He gave the twins one last hug and told them how wonderful they were in small whispers and said goodbye to the other Tomlinson girls before he turned to Louis, ready to leave.

Louis’ hand itched to grab Harry’s, but he didn’t, and they started walking out of the auditorium when Harry said, “Oh,” and turned back around to call over his shoulder, “Thank you for inviting me, Phoebe!”

Phoebe looked ecstatic, and Harry looked forward again to walk onward, a little faster than he normally would to get away from Mark.

\---

Louis knocked softly on his mum’s office door, trying not to wake the twins just down the hall. “Mum?” He asked when he got no answer. Louis pushed open the door just in time to see Jay pushing Mark back forcefully.

“Mark, _stop it_ ,” Jay said angrily, pushing Mark away. 

Louis watched as Mark grabbed Jay’s wrist, tugging on her gently. “Please, Johanna, can’t you just think about it?” He asked quietly.

Louis must’ve made some kind of noise, because suddenly, Jay looked over at him, froze for a second, and then pulled away from Mark completely, brushing her hands over her dress primly as she looked at the ground. Mark looked over at Louis and stood, suddenly enough that Louis nearly flinched – too used to Harry’s slow movements. 

“I’ll, erm,” Mark coughed to clear his throat and continued, “I’ll be in touch. …Think about it.” 

With that, Mark strode out, nearly bumping shoulders with Louis. .

Louis watched Mark disappear with a mixture of emotions pumping through his veins before he turned back to Jay, his eyes wide. 

Jay beckoned Louis in, and they both took a seat in their respective chairs. “Mum, are you okay?” Louis blurted out after a still silence.

Jay closed her eyes for a second before she responded. “I’m okay, sweetie; what about you?”

Louis reached across the desk and took his mum’s hand. “I mean really. What was that about?”

Jay covered Louis’ hand with her second and smiled warmly – motherly. “Don’t worry about Mark, Lou. I’ve got him where I want him. …How about you? How’s Harry? I hope he wasn’t too unnerved by Mark at the play earlier.”

Louis swallowed her instructions with distaste, knowing his mum was stubborn and he wouldn’t be getting anything out of her until she felt like talking. “No, he’s alright,” Louis answered eventually. “A little freaked out, but. I think it was just – the circumstances. But he’s okay. …What’d he come for, anyway?”

Jay’s eyes narrowed slightly, but she answered smoothly, “The twins wanted him to come see their play.”

“…Oh,” Louis answered. “So he doesn’t –”

“He doesn’t know about you and Harry,” Jay interrupted, reassuring Louis instantly. “I made sure he knew you two were strictly friends.”

Louis heaved a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Mum,” he said sincerely before he stood. “Oh – I’m meant to go have dinner with Harry, Anne, and her boyfriend Wednesday, on the way home from the game. That’s fine with you, right?” Louis checked.

Jay smiled. “Of course,” she answered easily, “just let me know when you get home. Love you.”

Louis bent to kiss his mum’s cheek. “I love you, too,” he said softly over his shoulder before he walked out of her room and pulled the door to.

\---

Louis lay on the couch, Harry leaning back against his chest, nestled between his legs and rubbing idly at one of Louis’ knees as they watched some sort of document on the Holocaust. Louis played with Harry’s curls, not really paying attention, but Harry was “studying” for his History test, so he had to pay attention.

But after an hour of horrifying, graphic pictures and fake reenactments, Louis was done watching, and leaned forward, pushing Harry up with him, and started pressing kisses up and down Harry’s neck. 

Harry shifted, squirming under Louis’ attention a bit, and then relaxed into the feeling. “What,” Harry began breathily. He swallowed and continued, “What are you…what are you doing?”

Louis hummed against Harry’s throat. “The Holocaust just turns me on,” he said in a low, seductive voice.

Harry barked out a laugh and squirmed away, and Louis laughed with him as Harry turned over and started pushing at Louis, wrestling playfully. 

Louis growled and started tickling Harry’s ribs, making Harry shriek as he laughed, squirming and gasping for air to protest. Louis ignored his protests, laughing, only to shrink back once Harry got a breath and started tickling him back.

The front door opened and they both stopped and looked down the hall, seeing Anne coming in, struggling under a great deal of grocery bags. 

They both hopped up and hurried over to her, Louis getting there first and grabbing bags from her. Anne sighed gratefully, and Harry walked out to the car to get the rest of the groceries. Louis followed Anne into the kitchen and helped unload them from their bags. 

As Louis picked out fruit after fruit after fruit, he chuckled.

Anne must’ve heard, because she laughed lightly. “We were out of all our fruit! Harry started eating them all yesterday, before the play… And now, with the new football diet your coach’s got going on –”

“Football diet?” Louis interrupted. 

Anne looked confused. “Harry said your coach wanted you guys to start eating more fruit, get more vitamin C?” She said it like a question, suddenly unsure.

“Oh,” Louis said, covering for Harry and feeling left out of the loop. “Right, I forgot he does that sometimes.”

Anne nodded and looked out of the kitchen window, where Harry was still struggling with getting the bags. She moved closer to Louis and spoke quietly, privately. “Louis, do you – do you think – Harry’d kill me if he knew I said anything about it to you, but – do you think you could speak to him about – about his body image?”

“His _body image_?” Louis echoed a little incredulously. “He’s got a fine body image, hasn’t he?”

Anne nodded, her face looking a little anxious. “It’s just – he seemed really – embarrassed about the coach’s diet, when he was telling me? I just wanted to make sure he’s not internalizing it, or something. And _please_ , don’t tell him I put you up to it!” She added anxiously.

“Of course,” Louis reassured her, and then, “what did he say the diet was again? I must’ve already left for work when Coach talked about it.”

“It’s no coffee, no dairy, berries and acidic fruits,” Anne answered. “Something about the vitamin C in berries and the fruits, or something.”

Louis paused, wondering why Harry would be eating berries and acidic fruit all of a sudden…and then it hit him. 

He struggled not to laugh and was about to reply when Harry walked in, huffing under all the bags. Louis caught Anne’s eye and gave her a reassuring smile before lifting some of the bags from Harry’s arms.

\---

“So,” Louis began slowly, unsure of how to broach the topic. 

Harry popped another grape from his mixed fruit-bowl into his mouth, snuggled up against Louis as they watched stupid YouTube videos on Harry’s bed. 

Harry paused the video. “So,” he echoed cheerfully enough, popping a raspberry in with a pineapple chunk. He scrunched his nose up at the weird mix of taste, but swallowed and offered the bowl to Louis.

“I’m alright,” Louis answered, making Harry shrug and dig into the bowl himself. Louis hesitated, not wanting to _embarrass_ Harry. “I, erm. Noticed your mum bought loads of fruit, this time around. Berries. High-acid. You know, the like.”

Harry’s chewing slowed as Louis spoke, and he squirmed, staring hard at the computer screen.. “Erm, yeah,” Harry said, clearly trying to sound casual as he shrugged. “I asked her to. Wanted, erm, to – be more healthy, and stuff.”

Louis scratched at Harry’s scalp. “You’re already healthy,” he said after a pause.

Harry huffed, defeated, and covered his face. “You can say it,” he said mournfully. “I know you know what I’m doing.” When Louis didn’t answer right away, and just scratched at Harry’s scalp some more, he added, “I hate you.”

Louis laughed. “No, you don’t.” Harry lifted up and glared over at Louis, pouting for not asking and giving the right sympathy, so Louis stifled his laughter. “Alright, I’ll bite,” he gave in, moving the computer to the foot of the bed so they could talk. “Why do you hate me, Harry?”

“You didn’t stick to the script!” Harry wailed all of a sudden, moving from Louis and flopping back on the bed. 

Louis shifted around so he was laying on his side but leaning over Harry. “And what was my script, sweetie?”

Harry pouted more, face a lovely dark pink, and mumbled, “It was – this isn’t how I wanted this conversation to go.”

Louis fitted a hand to Harry’s hip and rubbed little circles with his thumb. “No?” He asked, and Harry shook his head. “How did you want it to go?”

Harry blushed a little darker and groaned, grabbing Louis’ pillow and shoving it over his face. He growled loudly into it, and Louis laughed a little. 

“How did you want this conversation to go, babe?”

Harry quieted underneath his pillow, and Louis tried to pull it away, but Harry clutched it, clearly not wanting to look Louis in the eye yet. Eventually, Harry’s muffled voice said through the pillow, “It was _supposed_ to be _sexy_.” 

Louis paused, and this time when he tried to ease the pillow from Harry’s face, Harry let him. His face was red, and he wasn’t quite looking at Louis’ face, but Louis decided to take what he could get. “Sexy?”

Harry nodded, and Louis wanted to go get a wet rag to put on his face because it looked so hot.

“How do you mean?” Louis asked patiently, rubbing his thumb over Harry’s side again. “How was it going to be sexy?”

Harry took a deep breath and said, “It was – gonna be, like, ‘Oh, Lou, I probably taste really good, so – now we can, like – now we can’ – ‘cause I had been talking with Niall, remember, about – about, erm, blowjobs?”

Louis kept his face carefully impassive – tried to, at least – but that made it very difficult. “Harry,” he said slowly, trying to ignore the blood rushing to his cock and stick to the matter at hand. “You know I would… You’re going to taste just fine. Not because you’ve been surviving on rabbit food for a few days, but because I love you. The way you – you don’t have to eat like that just to make me want to suck you off. I already do.”

Harry’s eyes widened a little. “You want – you want to – do that?” He asked.

“Of course I do,” Louis said gently. “I love you. Not to mention, I’m a teen-aged guy and you’re really fit,” he added with a playful wink, trying to rid some tension. “Babe, you don’t need to change anything to make me want you; I’ve wanted you since I saw you – before you even tried out for football.”

That caught Harry’s attention, and he finally met Louis’ eyes and asked, “Really?”

Louis nodded. “For real. You were at your lunch table with Liam and Niall and Andy – and I thought you must be a bit of an idiot to be friends with Andy – but then you turned around and I saw your face, and you were so attractive that I made it a point to figure out who you were, just so I could tell Stan and Zayn about how fit you were.”

Harry blushed and grabbed Louis’ hand. “Kiss me?” He requested. 

Well. Louis wasn’t about to deny him that. 

Louis leaned down and gave Harry a kiss, leaning over him until the side of his ribcage touched Harry’s and letting their lips press sweetly. Harry wrapped a hand around Louis’ neck, sliding under the neck of his shirt to caress down across his back. As he leaned on his elbow, his other hand spread wide and then curled around Harry’s fingers, resting on the other side of Harry’s head. 

Louis broke the kiss and slowly made his way down Harry’s jawline to his chin, and Harry tipped his head back, inviting Louis to kiss down his throat. When Louis got to his collarbones, though, Harry made a noise and whispered, “Lou?”

Louis stopped and straightened up a bit, looking at his boyfriend questioningly. “Yeah, sweetheart?” He answered softly.

Harry blushed a little and his fingertips danced on the back of Louis’ hand. “What’s the – the worst thing you’ve ever done with someone?”

“…How do you mean?” Louis asked, eyebrows furrowed as he wondered what Harry considered ‘worst’ on a scale of ‘bad’.

“I mean – like not _worst_ , like, most – _sexual_?” Harry paused and then nodded. “Yeah,” he decided. “What’s the most, erm, _sexual_ thing you’ve ever done with someone?”

Louis shifted to get more comfortable and ended up laying mostly on his stomach with his side resting a bit on Harry’s, free arm over Harry’s chest and his chin resting on it. “Well, that depends,” he answered. “Do you mean sexual like _intimate_ or sexual like… _kinky_ , or sexual like how-far-have-I-gone?”

Harry bit his lip. “Erm, all of them?” He ventured, blushing.

Louis paused, not reluctant to talk about it, but he wanted to know – “Where’s this coming from, Hazza?”

Harry blushed a little more, but he didn’t squirm as he answered, “I just, you know. Curious. Just wanna know what you’ve done…with, like. People. Who aren’t me.”

Louis felt his face soften and he pressed a kiss to Harry’s heart before resting his chin again and answering. “Well, as for how far I’ve gone…I’ve made out and groped a girl…back before I realized it wasn’t quite my thing…and I’ve gone all the way with guys. I’ve bottomed _and_ topped.” Harry nodded, and Louis could see the questions popping up in his mind, but he continued anyway. He knew Harry would ask his questions when he was ready. “As for _kinky_ , erm…probably the most kinky thing I ever really did was rimming? Is that even kinky, nowadays? I dunno. But it’s probably the most ‘out-there’ thing I ever did,” Louis answered casually, trying to hide the smirk of fondness at how wide Harry’s eyes went. Harry tried to remain casual about it, but Louis could see. “And for most intimate…definitely with you, erm…” Louis trailed off as he tried to think of the most intimate moment he’d had with Harry, and Harry swallowed hard.

“I wanna – I mean, not tonight, ‘cause, like,” Harry waved dismissively in the direction of his bedroom door, “but – sometime, eventually, I want – can we do that?”

“Do what?” Louis asked, eyes widening a bit as he tried to figure out what Harry was meaning.

“Erm – the – the blowjobs?” Harry replied, looking bravely at Louis. “Only, I mean I know I’ve just – I mean, we should probably get used to the – to the, erm, the hand-jobs, or – whatever, but. Niall, erm, says it’s, like – nice, and stuff, and I want to – I mean, you can’t exactly – do that, to, erm, to yourself… Not like a h- a hand-job. But I can. I can, do that, you know.”

Louis swallowed tightly and licked his lips, noticing Harry’s eyes dart down to follow the movement, and finally nodded. “Harry, we can – yeah, sweetie, we can do that if you want to,” he said a little hoarsely. “But, yeah, not – not tonight. We’ll get it done, babe, okay?” 

Harry’s eyes lit up a bit, and he bit his lip as he nodded, and then sat up, pulling the laptop back up. He cuddled into Louis’ side and perched the computer on his chest, looking up at Louis, waiting for Louis to get ready and tell him to un-pause it. 

Louis chuckled and kissed Harry’s forehead, noticing with a burst of happiness the way Harry’s eyes shut and his lips curved into a gentle, subtle smile at the gesture, and squirmed around until he was comfortable. They ignored their homework, putting it off for the next day, and watched stupid videos until Louis looked down to find Harry passed out, head on his shoulder and a swimming guinea pig video playing on screen.


	29. Part 28.

“Hey, erm, Nialler?” Harry started tentatively. Niall glanced up from his phone, his face open and understanding, and, well – then, Harry _had_ to ask. “Have you ever, erm – do you like – what’s, erm, all, like, involved, in, erm – in… in _rimming_?”

Niall’s open expression froze for a second, and Harry wondered if he’d overshot his boundaries before remembering Niall didn’t have many of those.

It was a relief, however, when Niall put his phone down and gave Harry all his attention. “Rimmin’ involves _your_ mouth and _his_ arsehole – or the other way around, if ‘at’s what you –”

“Niall!” Harry interrupted, embarrassed even though he’d initiated the conversation. Niall cackled, anyway. “Can we stick to the facts, please?” Harry almost snapped out, but Niall just nodded.

“Sure, mate.” He took a few seconds to wipe off the grin from Harry’s reaction, and then said, “It’s like, you lick it. Or, well, you can do whatever, like – lick it, bite it, suck on it, that sorta thing. And it’s the arsehole, but you can like – if he’s wantin’ you to rim ‘him, he’s probably good with you messin’ about basically anywhere, so you get to play with that _huge_ arse of ‘is.” Niall threw in a lewd wink, making Harry cough over his blush. “Why’re you askin’ after rimmin’, though?” Niall asked, a little puzzled. His face brightened up and his threw Harry a dirty smirk. “Did you guys blow each other, then?”

Harry laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Erm, no, we haven’t,” He admitted. “I just – he said he’d done it? – and –”

“He rimmed someone or got rimmed?” Niall interrupted nosily.

“I dunno,” Harry answered wryly, his nose wrinkled in dissatisfaction. 

“Well, ask ‘im!” Niall said, like Harry was an idiot not to have.

“What, just text him? ‘ _Hey, Lou, know you’re with your mum and sisters but could you just tell me whose tongue was in what bum?_ ’”

In that precise moment, Harry heard a knock on the door, and Liam came in with his nose wrinkled. “Are you guys talking about rimming?”

Harry blushed furiously while Niall just burst out laughing.

\---

“Tomorrow?” Karen repeated the next day, sounding a bit surprised. Harry nodded a little shyly, hoping Karen would approve. “Harry, that’s _wonderful_!” She trilled, beaming at him.

Harry smiled into his lap, fidgeting his hands, rubbing them between his thighs. “You don’t think – you don’t think that I’m, like…depending on Louis too much?” He asked, concerned after the talk he’d had with his mum recently. Harry looked up at his therapist and saw her eyebrows raised in question, and he huffed. “Only, it’s – ‘cause my mum said – she, like, pointed out, you know, how he’s going off after he graduates, right, like to school? And that – that, like, he’ll be far away and we might even, you know, like – that he might want to…to finish. With me, I mean.” Harry swallowed the lump of emotion he’d been keeping somewhere around his chest the past few days. 

Karen crossed her legs and leaned her elbow on her chair, curling her hand around her chin as she stared at Harry. “And your mum brought this up?” She clarified.

“Erm, yeah? Only, ‘cause, like, she doesn’t want me to be heartbroken when he leaves, she said.”

Karen nodded slowly as she lifted her head from her hand and folded her fingers in her lap. “Well,” she said decisively, “I think it was good that your mum brought that up. Not because I think Louis will finish with you – I don’t know, and I definitely don’t want to start placing bets on it.” Harry laughed a shaky laugh, and Karen smiled slightly as she kept a close eye on him. “I think it’s good because it draws attention to something I’ve been waiting for you to bring up: Louis.”

Harry was confused. “I – we talk about Louis every time,” he said, brows drawn together. “He – I bring him up, that’s mostly what we talk about in here…”

Karen nodded and waved dismissively. “Yes, yes, yes; I mean your _relationship_ with Louis – the specifics. Now, since we’re a little short on time here right now,” she said, glancing at the clock before returning her gaze to Harry, “we won’t dive into the mental relationship you two have; we’ll save that for next time. How about we talk about your sexual relationship for now?” Harry blushed crimson, and Karen sat back in her chair, folding her hands again. “What’s going on there?” She asked, a corner of her mouth lifted as she watched Harry squirm.

Harry shifted and wiped his suddenly sweaty hands on his jeans. “Erm, I – not much? I – do we have to talk about this?”

Karen scrunched up her nose and pushed at a strand of hair falling into her face, elegantly tucking it back into place. “You don’t need to talk about anything you don’t want to, Harry; however, I can honestly say I guarantee that whatever you tell me, I’ve heard stranger, more awkward, and also heard sexual lives _far_ less active than yours. There’s no need to be embarrassed. I just wanted to check the progress of your sexual growth, what with your history.”

Harry bit his lip and fidgeted, and Karen leaned forward, placing a calming hand on the very edge of his knee. He looked up at her and saw sincerity in her eyes, and understanding. “I mean it, Harry; you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

Harry took a deep breath, a little shaky, not understanding why he was so embarrassed. He’d talked about it with Niall, who said infuriatingly embarrassing things in return, hadn’t he? He’d talked to Liam, whose eyes grew to the sizes of saucers, right? He’d talked to Louis, who was – well, Louis was always perfect. He’d even briefly talked to his _mum_ about it. He could – he could talk to his therapist. “No, it’s – it’s alright,” Harry said, shifting and pulling his leg into the chair, folding it under himself. “I just – I’m not sure why it’s different for you? I just – need a second to – think.” 

Karen nodded and gestured for him to go ahead, and Harry, still bright red, shifted and collected thoughts until he was ready. “Okay,” he announced, and Karen straightened up minimally. “Well, erm, we – we started off just like, holding hands? And then – and then one day he came over to my house and – he was, like, really upset? So I hugged him. And that wasn’t really hard, or anything, like – he was _Louis_ , and he was upset, and I hug sometimes, like Niall and Liam and stuff. So that. And – I kissed him, like, on the cheek, when I met his parents. Or, his mum. And sisters. They’re great. So, like, that didn’t last long, ‘cause he – he kissed my, erm, face, like a lot,” Harry stumbled over words from speaking so fast, face red and chest heaving a little. “I, erm, we kiss, like, a lot. I really like kissing…and, like, we –” Harry shifted awkwardly, and took another deep breath. “We – have…I – gave him a, erm. I’ve, like…helped him…with my – hand. And he – well, he tried to do, like, the same? For me, I mean, and I – had a flashback, to m- to my, erm, father, so we’re – we’re not doing that, anymore, so. But that’s, like. It.” Harry sat up in his chair, and then hunched forward again, curling in on himself just a little. He took deep breaths and Karen stayed quiet while he calmed himself down.

Finally, when Harry was ready, he looked up at Karen, who smiled approvingly. “Alright, Harry,” she said fondly. “I can tell you’re a little knackered after that one. You can go. Make sure you stop in at the front desk to make an appointment for next week, yeah?” Harry nodded and thanked her before he stood and quickly walked out of her office, itching for Louis’ touch.

\---

_So are you gonna rim each other now instead of blows, or?_

Harry blushed as he exited from his messages quickly, feeling Louis walking up behind him. 

“Hi, sweetheart!” Louis chirped, pressing a kiss to Harry’s hair.

Harry turned around, wrapping his arms around Louis’ waist and crowding his space. “Hi,” he said, smiling in happiness and relief once Louis’ arms wound around him. “Thanks for picking me up,” he added.

“No problem,” Louis answered. “How was your session with Karen today?”

Harry extracted himself from Louis’ hold to smooch his lips and walk to the car, Louis opening the door for him. When Louis had come around and was in the car again, Harry answered, “It was okay. Got some good things done, and she said there was a lot that I gave her that is gonna make her think on things.”

As Louis pulled away from Harry’s house, he glanced over at Harry and grinned, taking his hand to hold it on top of the gearshift. “That’s a good thing, though, right?” He encouraged, and Harry nodded.

“Yeah, I guess,” he said. “Progress is progress and I shouldn’t complain.” Louis squeezed Harry’s hand affectionately without taking his eyes off the road. 

They stopped for ice cream, because it was an oddly hot afternoon for being March, and also because Harry _really_ wanted an ice cream. It turned out to be a horrific idea, though, because all he could see was the way Louis was licking his ice cream. It started dripping, and Louis started making squawking sounds as he tried to drive and also not get ice cream all over himself, and finally, he just stuck the top inch and a half of the ice cream into his mouth and sucked off enough that it wouldn’t drip, slowly coming up from the cone.

“Can we go to the Jungle instead?” Harry blurted suddenly, making Louis glance over to him in concern. “I mean, erm, would you – do you _need_ to go home?”

Louis shook his head, watching the road though his face was tilted towards Harry. “No, not that I know of…” he answered. “We can go to the Jungle if you want, babe. That’s fine.” Harry sighed in relief and Louis took the next exit. 

When they got to the warehouse, they walked quickly up to the Jungle and Harry knew he was probably worrying Louis with his sudden urgency, but all he could think about was the list of tips Niall had given him a while ago about giving good blowjobs.

When they got into the Jungle, Harry let out a sigh of relief, even as nerves kicked in. Would he be as good as all the other people who’ve done this with Louis? Obviously not…Would Louis enjoy it nonetheless? He’d said before he’d love anything just because it was with Harry…Would Louis be honest and help Harry through it if he were bad at it? Would Louis still want Harry if he was awful at it?

“Babe, is everything alright? You’ve gone tense and pale; do you need to go home? What do you need for me to do, sweetie?” Louis was standing behind Harry with his arms around him – hands up on his chest, strong and steady, and Harry needed him so much closer.

Harry turned around, smiling a little nervously. “I’m – I’m okay,” he assured Louis, keeping his eyes wide and earnest so Louis could search through them and find it all there. Louis nodded, and Harry took one of Louis’ hands and started walking towards the bed, tugging Louis along with him. “Come here,” Harry said as he jumped up on the bed, watching as it rocked closer to Louis.

Louis grabbed the bed and slowly climbed up it, and Harry lay on his side, propped up by his elbow on the pillows as he enjoyed the soothing, relaxing sway. Louis slowly copied the pose, facing Harry from his side, propped on his elbow. His free hand smoothly grabbed Harry’s, sliding their fingers in next to each other. “What’s on your mind?” Louis asked, and Harry blushed. 

“I, erm. Well. This is – not, like. Erm. Did you – want to do something?” Harry tried making his general _face_ as appealing as possible, but he was so embarrassed by asking Louis for this that he couldn’t look up at him, so he wasn’t sure if it did any good.

Apparently not. “What’d you have in mind, sweetheart?” Louis asked, amusement coloring his tone. 

Harry coughed uncomfortably and tugged on Louis’ hand, pulling his boyfriend closer, leaning weight on top of him.

“ _Oh_ ,” Louis murmured with a smile, and leaned in to kiss Harry, pulling his fingers away from Harry’s to slip under Harry’s shirt and pet gently at his hipbone.

Harry kissed Louis, accepting the tongue Louis gently slid past his lips and licked the bottom of it while Louis situated himself slightly more on top of Harry. Harry pulled back, though, not wanting Louis to think they were just – like usual – and said breathlessly into Louis’ lips, “How d’you feel about – about, erm – blowjobs?”

Louis’ fingers froze on Harry’s hips and his lips froze above Harry’s and Harry stopped breathing at that reaction. Before he could start doubting himself too much, though, Louis straddled Harry’s legs and sat up, looking down at him seriously. “Are you sure?” He asked, petting at Harry’s stomach, above his shirt. “Like, are you sure that’s what you want? Are you – are you ready?”

Harry nodded eagerly, pushing himself up into Louis’ space with one arm wrapped around his neck. “Yeah, yeah,” he said earnestly, pulling himself to kiss Louis’ collarbone, where it peeked from his shirt. “I – I really, really do. Can – can that happen?”

“Right now?” Louis asked, his eyes a little wider. He unconsciously rocked his hips, jostling Harry, and Harry just whimpered. “Fuck,” Louis breathed, and then nodded. He pushed Harry back down, nodding and chasing him to kiss his lips and lick into his mouth. “Yeah, baby, we – yeah.” He sat up, though, and pulled his shirt off, his necklace bouncing onto his tanned chest, and pushed at Harry’s hem, waiting for him to lean up.

Harry sat up and helped Louis take off his shirt, laying back down and sliding his fingers between Louis’ to pull him down with him. He stretched his arms up above his head as far as he could go – well, his arms were longer than Louis’ now, so, as far as _Louis_ ’ arms could go – and reveling in the feel of Louis pressing against his chest and stomach and groin and face and arms. Louis kissed Harry, squeezing his hands, until Harry’s breath started going ragged. When Louis pulled back only to duck in and put his mouth on Harry’s neck, Harry moaned and tilted his head back, his back arching a bit when Louis’ thighs, still wrapped around Harry’s, tightened and created friction.

Louis kissed his way down to Harry’s chest, his fingers letting go of Harry’s and sliding down the sensitive underside of Harry’s arms, sliding carelessly through the hair under Harry’s arms – Harry had a brief moments’ embarrassment for some reason, but Louis chose that moment to lick around a nipple, and Harry gasped as his hips jerked upwards. His hands flew out to reach the vine-looking chains that held their swaying bed off the ground, gripping them like he’d be sucked away from Louis if he didn’t hold on. 

Louis moved on to the other nipple and then down, sucking a tiny little kitten kiss onto the extra two nipples lower on his stomach. He murmured into the slightly-indented lines of muscle development Harry was starting to show on his torso before tracing them with his tongue before nipping little kisses across each barely-there muscle bump. “Your body’s so fucking hot,” Louis murmured as his mouth reached Harry’s belly button.

Harry blushed, but the compliment was forgotten when Louis’ tongue dipped into Harry’s belly button hole. Harry’s hands tightened on the chains. “ _Oh_ , I didn’t know that could feel good,” he said almost frantically, blushing when he realized his voice was scratchy. But Louis apparently didn’t care, as his mouth continued downward, his tongue licking the line of hair Harry kept there after seeing other guys had it.

Louis paused when his lips found Harry’s jeans, and he looked up, pressing his hands lightly against Harry’s stomach and sliding over his tensing muscles. “Can I take them off?” He asked quietly, like he would be fine with whatever answer Harry gave him. 

“Oh,” Harry said, realizing that he was meant to be going first. “Come here first, real quick?” He stretched out his arms toward Louis, who quickly crawled up over him, looking attentive and ready for whatever Harry said he needed. 

Harry was nervous. He knew Louis could tell, and he knew, objectively, that it was okay to be nervous. That he was allowed. Nonetheless, he cupped Louis’ cheeks with both hands and stared into Louis’ eyes, relieved to find they were still clear, beautiful blue, and kind, and perfect, without even a hint of gray in them. Louis smiled, and Harry smiled back, closing his eyes and pulling Louis’ lips to his for a kiss. When it ended, Harry opened his eyes again and met Louis’. “I love you,” Harry said seriously, and Louis closed his eyes, bringing a hand to cover Harry’s where it rested on Louis’ cheek.

“I love you, too,” Louis said, and Harry saw the sincerity.

Harry kissed him one last time and then let go, laying back down onto the pillows, and Louis hovered only a second longer before moving away again. 

Harry kicked off his shoes and wrinkled his nose when Louis pulled off the socks underneath in a mock-seductive manner, closing his eyes like he was in ecstasy when he rubbed Harry’s stupid sock over his stomach. Harry giggled and nudged playfully at Louis’ leg with his now-bare foot, making Louis grin back at him and catch Harry’s foot, holding it suspended in mid-air. Harry laughed, laying on his back in a gorgeous swaying bed in the most amazing room in the world while his first-ever love of his life was doing wonderful things to and with him of his own volition. It was an amazing feeling. 

When Louis let Harry’s leg back down softly, though, suddenly Harry was aware that he was in nothing but his tight briefs with an obvious erection, and a fit boy between his legs who wanted to do something about it. With his mouth. Harry swallowed noisily, resisting (barely) the urge to cover his groin from Louis’ sight. It was just instinct, and, also, that’d be counter-productive, probably. 

Louis met Harry’s eyes and picked up Harry’s leg again, his hand gripping at Harry’s ankle gently. Louis kept Harry’s gaze as he pressed a kiss to the very inside of Harry’s ankle. He pressed another kiss a few inches higher, and then one on Harry’s calf. The inside of his knee. Harry’s breath grew quicker when Louis set Harry’s foot back down, planted flat on the bed so his knee was bent. Louis pressed a kiss to Harry’s inner thigh, soft and just a little wet. When Louis’ lips were gone, the air against the wetness made Harry shiver, and his breath caught when Louis kissed right at the leg of Harry’s underwear, his tongue slipping just under it that Harry could feel it. Louis moved up more and kissed Harry’s leg over the briefs, far enough away from Harry’s penis that Harry’s hands didn’t clench anymore onto the blankets beneath him but close enough that Harry let loose a little whimper. 

Louis must’ve caught the whimper, because he suddenly lurched up and kissed right below Harry’s belly-button, before he moved over and made the exact same trail down Harry’s right leg as he’d gone up Harry’s left. When he reached Harry’s ankle, he watched Harry’s face as he circled an ankle with each hand and started running his hands up Harry’s legs, slowly enough that Harry could easily make himself say ‘touch’. 

Harry didn’t say it. 

He tensed a little, once Louis’ hands reached the part of his hips that were still underneath his boxers, but his hands stayed on the outside, far enough away from Harry’s penis that he didn’t panic. Louis pressed another kiss below Harry’s belly-button and murmured “I love you” into the skin, looking up at Harry one last time before he moved to duck down. 

“Louis,” Harry said suddenly, though quiet. Louis looked right up to Harry instantly, questions and a bit of concern in his eyes. “Could you just – erm. Can you – look at me? When you…”

Louis smiled easily. “Of course, sweetheart. I’ll watch you.”

Harry sighed in relief as the blue eyes washed over him, calming him down and exciting him sexually at the same time. “Thank you,” he whispered, and Louis found his hands and twisted their fingers together, tightly squeezing for a second before relaxing for Harry to hold them loosely. 

Harry watched as Louis ducked down, glancing up at Harry, and licked over Harry’s erection through his briefs. He gasped and his hips rolled, nodding at Louis’ cursory glance of approval. “Yeah,” Harry breathed, squeezing when Louis ducked his head back down, and his mouth opened and – 

Wow.

Harry watched, eyes wide open and panting already, as Louis’ lips bent over where they were pressed against the obvious shape of Harry’s erection in his underwear. The warmth of Louis’ open mouth was incredible on Harry’s penis, and he threw his head back for a second before looking back down, desperate not to miss _anything_. “Louis,” he moaned out for no in particular reason other than it was in his mind, next to the fire that just was lit through his whole body. His mind was a loop of _Louis Louis Louis_ and his body was just on fire. 

Harry’s eyes stayed locked on Louis’ face, how Louis’ eyes would glance up at him every few seconds before dropping back down to Harry’s bulge, like he couldn’t help but watch as the material around Harry’s hardened length dampened and showed Harry more easily. Louis sank downward, and Harry’s mouth dropped open when Louis’ lips surrounded Harry’s testicles. A broken, dying animal-esque sound dropped, ripping from Harry’s throat when Louis sucked at them through his briefs and let his tongue pad across them. 

“Louis, Lou – Lou, please,” Harry panted, his head thrown back against pillows, squirming and squeezing his hands. 

“What, sweetie?” Louis asked, his voice a forced calm.

Harry felt bad for all of two seconds, knowing that Louis probably thought something was wrong, but he stopped caring when his erection gave a particularly nasty throb because something was wrong. 

“Please, take them off,” Harry begged, rolling his hips, his erection cold with no attention being given to it. “ _Please_ ,” Harry sobbed when Louis didn’t move.

“You have to let go of my fingers, darling,” Louis said calmly, and it wasn’t until then that Harry realized Louis was trying to tug his fingers free of the death grip Harry had them in.

Harry opened his eyes and looked down at Louis, kneeling over his groin, with his blue eyes soft and a little amused but mostly looking _dark_ and aroused, but still blue and not gray, and Harry let go of Louis’ hands to get _more_. 

Louis’ hands slid down Harry’s stomach, and Harry wanted to cry because that’s _not_ what he wanted, but a second later, fingertips were slipping underneath Harry’s waistband and pulling them away from his skin. Louis started pulling them down, and Harry felt a tiny flash of panic stir through him. 

“Louis,” Harry quickly said, and Louis’ eyes flashed to him, perfect and wonderful and _blue_. His hands froze and he leaned forward, one hand moving down to the mattress to kiss his cheek. Harry wrapped his arms around Louis’ neck, breathing in the smell of him. Harry licked a tiny patch of Louis’ neck, and Louis breathed into Harry’s ear.

“You okay, babe?” 

Harry nodded, squeezing Louis’ neck tight. “Yeah, I’m – thanks, I just…needed to see your eyes. Just for a second.”

Louis nodded slowly, and Harry let him pull away, but grimaced internally when Louis looked hesitant. “Really, I’m fine now,” Harry said. “I want this,” he added firmly. 

Louis relaxed and nodded, shifting back on his knees again. He brought both hands back to Harry’s waistline, pulling the boxers from his hips and down his legs.Harry’s erection sprang free, heavy and thick and the head of it flushed to the color of his lips, bitten red and raw. Harry looked up from it to see Louis’ reaction, which was…interesting. 

Louis gave a strangled-sounding groan and his hands gripped at Harry’s hips. He started shifting, looked down to Harry, and licked his lips. Harry rolled his hips, kind of by accident, and Louis groaned, a tiny bit. He shuffled back on his knees and bent forward, his hands moving to the backs of Harry’s thighs to bend his knees and separate them. He wrapped his arms between Harry’s calves and Harry’s thighs, so the backs of Harry’s thighs were pressed against his biceps and his hands were free to roam around Harry’s stomach, which was clenching and unclenching the longer Louis stared at Harry’s penis with wide eyes.

“Is there something wrong with it?” Harry blurted, staying hard simply by the havoc Louis’ fingers were wreaking on his torso.

“Oh, _fuck, no_ ; it’s beautiful,” Louis groaned, moving forward and kissing Harry’s inner thigh again to make him gasp. Louis bit into the soft skin on the very inside of Harry’s thigh – the part Harry didn’t like if he paid close enough attention to it, because it wasn’t muscle and it wasn’t really fat and he couldn’t get rid of it; it was just there and he didn’t get why.

Harry decided it could definitely stay there, if Louis could always be around to bite at it and suck on it and lick it. 

“Can I – _fuck_ , Harry, you smell good – can I suck you off?” Louis asked from between Harry’s legs, voice muffled as he looked directly into Harry’s eyes. 

Harry’s breath hitched and he nodded eagerly. “Please,” he croaked, and Louis groaned and suddenly, Harry was falling, burning, spiraling, and the only anchor was where Louis’ mouth was on his penis and where his hands were on his hips, gripping them a little too tight for normal. “Oh,” Harry exclaimed, his eyes popping open (when had he closed them?) as he suddenly pushed himself up a bit, feeling a strain at his thighs where Louis was pushing them apart so much, and he _loved_ it. Harry watched, barely breathing and wide-eyed, as Louis’ lips bubbled out from where they were pursed firmly around his penis, disappearing as his mouth slid downward and reappearing when he slid back. Harry’s hands were behind him on the bed, swaying and throwing Louis off his rhythm, but Harry didn’t even care – Louis felt perfect around him.

“Oh, God, Louis – I –” Louis’ tongue swirled around Harry’s penis while half of it was in Louis’ mouth, and then Louis pulled back and his tongue flicked across some kind of switch or something on the bottom of the head. 

Harry fell back onto the pillows, making the bed shudder and rock more, and his back arched, shoving more of his penis into Louis’ mouth. The head of Harry’s penis suddenly touched the soft, piping hot back of Louis’ throat, and he cried out when Louis gagged slightly, his entire mouth tightening around his penis and sending entire _jolts_ up his body and shooting out towards his limbs. 

Harry forgot about Louis’ _hair_ rule, and his fingers dragged through Louis’ silky hair, tugging involuntarily. Harry had a brief thought about apologizing because Louis had expressly said no, but Louis moaned around Harry’s penis, and it – _vibrated_. 

Harry gasped, feeling close, and he tugged at Louis’ hair again, pulling downward a bit like he could direct Louis to take more through sheer force of will, or something – and it worked. Harry saw stars as Louis’ mouth slid all the way to Harry’s pubic hair, and he groaned again, fingers pressing hard into Harry’s hips – hard enough for a bruise, and Harry moaned out, “Louis, I’m – I’m gonna come,” expecting Louis to pull back, like sometimes in porn, but Louis moaned again and – and he _swallowed_ around Harry’s penis, and Louis had Harry’s hips pinned down as he came, straight down Louis’ throat, with a raw kind of shout.

Harry gasped lightly when he felt Louis’ tongue swirling around his penis even as his mouth made its slow slide up, off of it. Louis kept the head between his lips and moved forward and down, letting it go against Harry’s stomach gently so it didn’t just slap against his skin. Harry wanted to swear. Louis was even thoughtful about _sensitivity_. 

“Are you sure you’re human?” He panted out raggedly, and Louis chuckled hoarsely. 

“Pretty sure, babe,” he said, kissing Harry’s thighs and back up his stomach, rocking down onto Harry’s hip when his mouth reached Harry’s collar bones. 

Harry let himself lay back in bliss, smiling as best as he could through the panting still going on until he got his breath back. Louis kissed all over Harry’s neck and collar bones and shoulders, even on the insides of his arms, and up underneath his jaw and back behind his ears, all the while rocking slowly at Harry’s hip. 

“Okay,” Harry breathed, swallowing nervously and trying to smile. His hands dropped to Louis’ hips, gripping them until they stilled. “My turn.”

Louis froze.


	30. Part 29.

Louis’ cock throbbed painfully when Harry looked up at him that way – with excitement and nerves and hunger and love and trust. Harry was _eager_ to get his mouth on Louis’ cock, and it was something Louis’d thought about many a-time, but…

Louis had a sudden vision of Harry sucking him down, and Louis losing control, gripping his hair and fucking up into his mouth, groaning as Harry gagged around him, his eyes wide and terrified as Louis choked him.

“No,” Louis said quickly, shaking his head. He regretted it the next instant when Harry looked taken aback, and then, a little hurt.

Harry stared at Louis with the hurt expression until he turned his face, looking upward to stave off tears – Louis wasn’t sure exactly what they were from: rejection, or embarrassment. “You don’t – you don’t want me to…” Harry trailed off, and Louis knew he was too embarrassed to ask about it, and especially after having his confidence shattered the way Louis’d so artfully done.

Louis tried again, desperate to fix what he’d just accidentally done. “I just mean – you must be exhausted, you know,” he said, making up the excuse as he went.

Harry’s lip quivered, and when Louis reached out to stroke his hair, Harry suddenly pushed up on Louis’ chest. Louis knew Harry could push hard enough to actually lift Louis off of him, but he only pushed gently, enough to let Louis know what he wanted. Louis backed off, rolled to the side and sat up, watching Harry’s embarrassment with helplessness. “Baby,” Louis said imploringly, but Harry sat up, not looking at him.

“Sweetheart, it’s not –”

“Just take me home,” Harry whispered with his back turned to Louis. Louis didn’t answer, and Harry slid off the bed, only turning around to grab his briefs and jeans with a blush. He got dressed with his back turned as Louis watched, unsure of what to say.

When Harry sighed and turned around, moving the messed-up blankets in search of his socks, Louis tried again. “Harry, I can explain –”

“Don’t,” Harry said, shaking his head. He looked down as his lip quivered again, and his eyes were already turning a little bloodshot and red. Louis was pretty sure he felt his heart break on the spot. “Just – please. …Take me home.”

Louis sighed and nodded, though Harry couldn’t see it. He found Harry’s other sock and handed it to him as Harry pulled on his shirt. Harry took it with a quiet “Thank you” and Louis found his own shirt.

As they walked out of the Jungle, Louis tried to hold Harry’s hand, but Harry wrapped his arms protectively around himself.

Louis opened the car door for him, earning another mumbled thanks. Louis shut the door and just leaned his head against the car, trying to think through his next move, when he realized he was basically pressing the dick he hadn’t let Harry suck against Harry’s window.

Groaning at himself, Louis quickly moved away and got into the car. He noticed at once when Harry pressed his fingertip into the corner of his eye, wiping at tears, and froze, key halfway into the ignition. “Harry –”

“Louis, just _take me home_ ,” Harry said, his voice louder than it’d ever been towards Louis. Harry didn’t even look at him.

Louis stared for a second, shocked, and swallowed a sudden lump in his own throat. “Alright,” he said, ignoring that his voice sounded funny. “Buckle up,” he said, more to talk to Harry than to actually have him buckle up.

Harry sniffed, but he buckled up silently, and Louis started on his drive back to Harry’s in the thick tension.

It seemed like the kind of ride that should be at nighttime, but it was just barely seven, and the sun was still in the process of setting.

“Are you hungry?” Louis asked as they got closer to town, passing restaurants.

“No,” Harry said. His stomach growled, and he blushed, but just wrapped his arms over his stomach, like that would make it be quiet.

Louis tried to hide his smile and put on his blinker to turn into a fast food joint, but Harry just _exploded_.

“I _said_ take me home!” He said angrily, his hands balling into fists as he finally turned to face Louis. “You can’t just – you can’t just _crap on me_ and then _feed_ me like it’ll all be fine! Despite what you _obviously_ think of me, I’m not some _child_ who can be _bribed_ with _candy_ and stuff!”

The car was still going, Louis had missed his turn, and he didn’t know what to do with any of that. He opened his mouth to defend himself, but Harry wasn’t having any of it. “I don’t want to hear what you have to say, right now, Louis,” he said, quieting down a little, though the humiliation and anger was still very apparent in his voice.

Louis closed his mouth and turned his blinker off, and Harry curled into a ball in his seat, resting his head on his knees as he started crying softly.

“I love you,” Louis said quietly, tensing immediately after as he expected another round of shouting from Harry.

Harry’s crying paused, and then another sob wracked through his body, heart-wrenching and shaking his entire curled-up frame. He didn’t answer, and Louis swallowed tightly.

When they pulled up to Harry’s house, Louis parked the car and Harry didn’t move. Louis reached around in the backseat for Harry’s bag, got out of the car, and came around to open Harry’s door.

Harry lifted his head minutely, so his chin was on his knees, rather than his forehead, and wiped at his eyes, stifling his sniffs and tiny little sobs. He unbuckled and unfolded his body, stepping out of the car slowly and without looking up at Louis. He took his bag with yet another mumble, and started to walk off.

“Harry, don’t I have a say in this?” Louis called desperately, and Harry froze for a second.

Louis thought he was going to turn around, but Harry just took a deep breath, shaking his head. “I’ll – I’ll call you,” he finally said, so quietly Louis nearly missed it.

Louis watched Harry go, and saw a flutter of the curtain in Harry’s kitchen. Through it, Louis saw Harry walk into the kitchen, where Anne was busy cooking dinner. Anne greeted him cheerily as she grabbed three plates out, but Harry must’ve done something, because her smile dropped and she looked over at him, frowning, as she slowly put one plate back. She said something to Harry, and when his head dropped and his shoulders started shaking, she rushed over to him, wrapping him up in her arms, petting gently at his hair and rocking him side to side. She glanced out the window and saw Louis standing, staring with what was probably a heart-broken expression, and her face took on a mix of emotions – sadness, apologetic, and concern among them.

Louis turned away and got into his car, looking back to the kitchen window one last time. Harry wasn’t there anymore, but Anne was, and she held the curtain open and watched him with a strange expression on her face. Louis swallowed, wondering how he was supposed to fix this one, and when he finally drove away, he didn’t see Harry, watching Louis’ car disappear from his bedroom window.

\---

The next morning, Louis woke up to his phone vibrating with a text from Liam. Almost immediately, one from Niall followed, and more from Niall followed those. Louis was just about to ignore them and text Harry his usual _good morning!_ text for when they didn’t stay the night with each other, but Liam’s text stuck out, and distracted Louis.

 _Wat did yo do to him_ , it said, and Louis replied, _What are you talking about?_

Before Liam texted back, Louis opened up Niall’s conversation and found a few texts, ranging from nosy to fiercely protective.

_What happened with u and Harry?_

_The fuck did you DO mate? He doesn’t even want you pickin him up today??_

_Are YOU mad at HIM??_

_Your bein a right fuckin prick, you know that? go pick up ur fuckin boyfriend, stop being a dick!_

_IF YOU HURT HIM I WILL HAVE LIAM KICK YOUR ASS, TOMLINSON!!_

Louis dropped his phone down on his bed, rubbing his eyes. _Shit._

He glanced up at his clock, noting that he wouldn’t have time to do anything with his hair, and sighed, trying to swallow the heaviness in his stomach before he got up and got ready for school. It was game day. His morning should’ve been fantastic.

Instead, Louis opened a text from Liam that read, _he calld me n asked me to pick him up 2day._

Louis sighed, chewing on his lip. _Are you going to? I need to fix whatever the hell happened yesterday, but I have to TALK to him._

Louis went downstairs, walking around his sisters who were, as usual, running around like chickens with their heads cut off, and grabbed breakfast. He was getting antsy, he knew, and though he was used to getting ready on his own once or twice a week – he didn’t spend _every_ night with Harry, after all – it felt all _wrong_ without Harry there.

Getting fidgety, Louis opened a new message and sent it to Harry. _Morning babe, hope you slept well. I’ll see you soon? Love you xxx_

Finally, Louis’ phone vibrated with a text from Liam: _He dosen want to talk 2 u rn. What happened?_

Louis closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. _If he wants to talk about it, he will_ , Louis sent, lips pressed into a firm line. _Just let him know I have his cleats and shinnies and will bring them to the bus for him? thanks._

Louis exited the messages and went to his music, leaving his breakfast almost completely untouched, grabbed his keys, bag, and wallet, and walked out the door.

\---

When Louis climbed onto the bus, Harry was already on it, sitting by the window next to a second-string defender. Louis scowled, leaning down to the nearest teammate without taking his eyes off of Harry, and asked, “Did Coach give us a seating order?”

John looked up at Louis, confused, and said, “Erm…no…” and Louis nodded, patting his shoulder as he walked on, struggling a bit with both his bag and Harry’s over a shoulder.

When Louis approached Harry’s seat, he stared at the defender until the kid looked up at him, confused. Louis jerked his head in an unmistakable, “Move your ass” gesture, and the kid grabbed his bag, looking confused but reluctant to challenge Louis.

Harry looked up when Louis plopped down, and Louis handed the bag over to him, a hopeful smile on his face. Harry smiled tightly, tucking the bag beneath his feet. “Erm. Thank you. For bringing my bag, I mean,” Harry said quietly, looking almost embarrassed.

Louis swallowed tightly, not liking the way Harry was acting like he didn’t even _know_ Louis. He involuntarily went to put a hand on Harry’s knee, but stopped himself, clenching his fingers together. “It’s fine; I’d do anything for you, Harry. You know that,” Louis answered. He knew it was a bit overdramatic for bringing his teammate’s bag that was already in his car, but he wanted Harry to _understand_.

Harry smiled a little, and Louis was just about to rejoice when Harry said, “I’d like it if we could get through this game like actual teammates, rather than – whatever’s happening, here.” He gestured between the two of them awkwardly, fidgeting and angling his body so he was a bit farther from Louis than original.

Louis just couldn’t believe Harry was talking like _Louis_ was the one who hadn’t spoken to him all day, like _Louis_ was the one who’d screamed and demanded to be taken home and avoided him. Louis’ brows furrowed and he said, “Well, I don’t know about _you_ , but as far as _I_ know, we’re boyfriends who _are_ teammates, and are mature enough to set aside whatever convoluted differences one may think they’re having to play some damn football.”

Harry’s face darkened. “This is _your_ fault, Louis; don’t ‘ _convoluted differences I think we’re having_ ’ me. I’m not a child.”

“When did I ever say you _were_?” Louis said, his voice rising a bit. The defender looked back at them, and Louis stared blankly back. “Can I help you?” He asked in frustration, and the kid turned back around. When Louis faced back to Harry, Harry looked angry. “What?” Louis asked.

“Don’t talk to him like that just because he’s younger than you!” Harry said.

“What the hell is _up_ with you about _age_ , suddenly?” Louis demanded. “I’d’ve said the same thing to Stan; his fucking age has nothing to do with it!”

Harry huffed and stared straight ahead at the seat in front of him. Louis sighed.

“I’m sorry I raised my voice,” he said dully, only half-way meaning it but knowing Harry wanted to hear it. But Harry didn’t answer, and Louis banged his head on the seat in front of him, letting Harry stay quiet for as long as he could stand it.

“Is this seriously because I didn’t let you suck me off?” Louis whispered furiously twenty minutes later, hyper-aware of the fact that his teammates were all on the bus on the way to their game.

Harry flushed, but he turned and whispered back, “Why would you say no to that? Why? What could I have possibly done that was so awful you weren’t even – that you didn’t even want that anymore?” Louis made to answer, but Harry cut him off. “Seriously, what was it?” he hissed. “Was it because I broke your stupid hair rule? Did I look ugly when I – when I came? Did I taste bad? Do I have, like, smelly come, or something? What? Was it something I did, or was it you? Do you, like – _have_ something? ‘Cause that’s pretty shitty that you let me – with my – hands; I’m pretty sure you can get stuff from that way, too.”

“Harry –” Louis tried, but Harry was still on a roll.

“Did you not care? Did you just want to do me and then finish with me or something? Was this like one of those movies or whatever with the stupid bets, or something ? Are you secretly straight?”

“ _God_ , Harry, do you even _hear yourself_?” Louis interrupted, turning himself bodily toward Harry. “’Do you have something’? ’Are you secretly straight’? _Seriously_? Would I have spent the better part of an hour making you come if I were into girls? What’s even _wrong_ with you?!”

Harry blushed, but his face stayed angry. “Don’t make this about me, Louis,” he said, voice quiet but seething. “This is about you not trusting me, or – or whatever it is you’ve got going on that I don’t know about.”

Louis didn’t know what to say, so he just stared at Harry.

“And anyway, it’s probably a good thing I didn’t,” Harry said, his voice forced to sound offhand. “Who _knows_ where your penis has been.”

Louis physically flinched back from that, feeling like Harry could’ve just punched him in the crotch and it wouldn’t’ve hurt as bad. Harry looked like he regretted it as soon as he said it, but he was too angry to apologize, and Louis wasn’t really expecting to get one, though it would’ve been nice.

Louis swallowed tightly. “Good thing, then,” he said, and turned around to face forward. He pulled his team hoodie over his head and put earphones in after plugging them up to his phone. He didn’t actually have music on, but he needed an excuse to just not talk to Harry right then.

He heard Harry banging his head against the window.

\---

“I’m open!” Louis shouted to Harry, who looked up at him and blatantly ignored him. “Harry, pass it! I’m open!” Louis tried again. “ _Pass the damn ball_!”

Harry resolutely held onto the ball, and it was stolen from him twenty yards from the goal. Louis swore and ran back up-field, struggling to get open so their defenders would have a clean shot if they got possession back.

They did, but they passed it to Stan, who passed it to Harry before he dodged a mean-looking left wing, rolling around him. The three ran down-field, and Harry was about to run into some trouble when Louis situated himself to be open. “Harry! Pass it!” Again, Harry looked directly at Louis and passed it to Stan, who wasn’t open, and they lost possession when a defender from the Eagles got it and passed it.

That time, the Eagles scored, and Louis swore, running up to Harry and gripping his wrist. “If you wanna be pissed off at me, then, _fine_ , _be_ pissed off!” he shouted in Harry’s face. “But use it to make your head _clear_. Don’t hold onto the ball because you can’t let go of your pride. When I say I’m open, _pass the damn ball_!”

He let go of Harry’s wrist and sprinted back to the center, waiting for the play to begin again.

With eight minutes left, Harry passed the ball to Louis – finally – only for Louis to have to pass it to Stan seconds later. They ran down-field with it, and Stan shot it straight up into the corner on a curve, giving them the lead 6-5.

For the next six minutes and twenty-two seconds, they played keep-away, delaying the clock as much as they could because the Eagles had a solid left-center forward and a fast right with a good leg, and Louis wasn’t taking any chances. Thankfully, Harry, Stan, and the other seniors had plenty of experience playing keep-away, as they often did it when Coach was in his office during a practice just to goof around, and they successfully ran the clock down, winning their game.

In the locker room, Louis wiped himself down with scented wipes (which he stole from Lottie; not that he’d ever tell _anyone_ that) so he could be ready once Harry got out of the shower. They were meant to go to dinner with Robin and Anne after the game, but after this stupid fight-thing going on, Louis wasn’t so sure his presence would be relaxing at all – if it’d even be welcomed. Not to mention, Louis wasn’t sure if Anne had cancelled on Robin, after she’d seen Harry come home from Louis’ crying.

There was only one junior left in the locker room by the time Harry got out of the shower, and his eyes flickered to Louis when he started getting dressed, blushing for his nudity, though Louis kept his eyes decidedly on Harry’s face.

Harry coughed. “I’m – sorry. About the game, I mean. That was…stupid. You were right.”

Louis nodded. “It’s fine; it was fixed, and we won. No hard feelings about that.”

Harry nodded, clearly understanding that Louis was saying he was upset – just not about not passing. He pulled his shirt on. With his clothes (except his shoes) on, Harry walked over to Louis, stopping a foot or so away from him, looking at him shy and uncertain. “And I’m – sorry about…what I said. About your, erm, penis. That was really mean.”

“It was,” Louis agreed, and Harry’s head sunk lower. “But thank you for apologizing. I forgive you.”

Harry looked up at Louis with a tiny smile, which Louis returned shortly before stepping closer, his hands reaching out to grab Harry’s. “I don’t want to fight,” Louis said honestly. “I know you’re upset that I didn’t, you know, let you suck me off.” Harry blushed. “But I – I don’t have anything, and I’m _not straight_ , and you were – everything about it was great, Harry; it wasn’t that, alright?”

“Then _what_?” Harry cried, frustrated as he slipped from Louis’ hands to throw his arms in the air, and just like that, the calm moment was gone, and they were both pissy again. “What is _so wrong_ with me – or with you, I don’t even know anymore – that you said _no_?”

Louis growled in frustration. “The first time a guy sucked me off, he barely had my cock out before he was telling me to fuck his face. Since then, it’s _kind of_ been second-nature. You don’t exactly get off with people at parties and have a gentle, loving blowjob. It’s _fast_ , and it’s _rough_ , and their throat’s sore for _days_ – and that’s with people I barely even fucking _know_ , Harry. Everything – _every fucking thing_ – is so much more intense with you; how the hell am I supposed to be able to just _magically_ control myself if I never even did with strangers? D’you want me to fuck your throat, Harry? ‘Cause I will, if you want me to. But otherwise, you have to let me take my time. I did what I thought was best for you, alright? I didn’t want to hurt you or scare you. I go easy and take my time for _you_ ; you could do the same for _me_ , once in a while.”

Louis was full-well planning on storming out dramatically and catching the bus afterwards, but suddenly, there was a _Harry_ pressed up against him, pressing him against his locker and kissing his lips, slipping his tongue through Louis’ lips with one hand on his neck and cheek and the other slipping around to squeeze Louis’ bum and pull him closer while Harry licked into his mouth.

Louis relaxed and kissed back with fervor, sucking Harry’s tongue deeper while one hand wound into Harry’s wet curls at the back of his head and the other gripped Harry’s hip tightly. Louis suddenly pivoted, pushing Harry a little roughly against the locker (and probably bruising the hand that blocked Harry’s head from hitting the metal), crowding even more into his space.

Louis pulled a little on Harry’s hair, close to his scalp, and Harry pressed his hips against Louis’ with a whine, pulling away from Louis’ mouth. Louis sucked and bit down Harry’s neck while he tried to talk. “Lou, can’t – dinner – Mum – Robin – oh, God – _no, dinner_ –”

Louis remembered with a jolt that they were going to dinner with Harry’s mother and her boyfriend, and he pushed away, moving a few steps back from Harry so he could calm himself down. He patted his hair, which wasn’t messed up much, but it was habit, and Harry straightened his clothes, which, yeah, Louis decided he should probably do, too.

“Did you, erm, want me to – come with you, still?” Louis asked, uncertain if this meant the fight was over or that Harry had some undiscovered anger kink or something.

Harry’s eyes got big and a little desperate. “Please, could you come?” he asked almost immediately. “I’m sorry, like, for everything, and I’m still really upset but I’m not upset about, like, the genital warts I gave you in my head or the secret straight life I made you live in my head.”

Louis’ eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “You thought I had _genital warts_?!” He asked, and Harry blushed.

“Well, I didn’t know!” He said defensively, though there was an embarrassed smile on his face.

Louis chuckled and moved to hug him, again, and he smiled when he felt Harry’s had fall to his shoulder. “’M always gonna want you, you know,” Louis said softly, his hands rubbing against Harry’s back.

Harry sighed happily, making Louis shiver with his breath on Louis’ neck. “Sorry we fought and my friends are mad at you and I ignored you and wouldn’t let you explain even if you wanted to.”

Louis laughed quietly. “Thanks for that,” he said sarcastically, but he kissed Harry’s forehead as he pulled back. “I’m sorry I was a dick, and that I overreacted. Love you,” he added, making Harry smile.

“I love you, too,” he answered.

Louis gathered up his stuff and put it all in his bag while Harry did the same, and Louis snagged Harry’s bag and slung it over his shoulder, next to his own, and grabbed Harry’s hand, walking out to find Robin and Anne.

When they found them, Harry hugged Anne while Louis shook Robin’s hand and pulled him into a manly-bro sort of hug thing, and then Louis hugged Anne and kissed her cheek while he watched Harry force himself to give Robin a handshake, though he stood far back enough that he had to actually bend and lean forward a bit and stretch his arm to reach Robin’s hand

“Sorry we took so long,” Harry said. “Forgot which locker I put my stuff in.”

It was an obvious lie, and it was clear that Anne and Robin both knew it, but they just smiled at each other and nodded. Anne kissed his forehead and said, “C’mon; you guys hungry? We are.”


	31. Part 30.

Harry sat in the car, twisted sideways in the backseat so his legs were curled up (a little uncomfortably) against the car window, leaning heavily up against Louis, who was tracing random patterns against Harry’s stomach with one hand while Harry played with the fingers of his other. 

As Harry pulled Louis’ index and middle fingers apart before letting go of the middle and idly bending the knuckles of his index, he leaned his head back against Louis’ chest, looking up at him. “Can we talk?” Harry whispered, careful so Anne and Robin wouldn’t hear. Harry knew his mum was confused enough that she might listen in – when Harry had come home yesterday, he’d gone into the kitchen for a protein bar so he could skip dinner without actually _skipping dinner_ ; he’d seen his mum taking out a third plate out of habit for Louis, and told her to put it back because Louis wasn’t coming in. She had looked a little confused, but blew it off until she asked what he was up to instead, and Harry started sniffling, hung his head, and cried. His mum had rushed over quickly, cradling him like when he was younger and asking him what was wrong, but he’d just shook his head before pulling away, wiping his eyes and grabbing the protein bar before he mumbled something about going to sleep and walked upstairs. (He didn’t tell his mum he’d watched Louis’ car drive away and cried, but she probably knew, anyway. Mums knew everything.)

Louis’ fingers paused on Harry’s skin, splaying out possessively and protectively over his stomach, and he nodded. “Of course,” Louis said, whispering back. He glanced up to where Anne and Robin were sat, talking about something or other, and then leaned down, bending to kiss Harry’s forehead.

Despite having gotten so worked up in the locker room not even fifteen minutes before, Harry was relieved Louis didn’t give him _too_ much affection in front of Robin. It was stupid – in his _head_ , he knew Robin wouldn’t be into seeing them kiss or do anything, any more than he’d be into seeing his son Mike kiss his wife, or – or something. But in Harry’s _gut_ , something twisted at the thought of Robin _seeing_ Harry being touched and kissed and loved and enjoying it. 

Harry shook himself – Robin wasn’t his father, and Harry needed to get ahold of that. Karen had been so pleased when he’d told her he and Louis were coming to dinner with Robin tonight, happy and proud that he was trying earnestly to ‘conquer his mindset’, or something like that.

And, besides, Harry needed to focus on Louis.

At the thought of his boyfriend, Harry felt guilt wave through him like an ocean tide. Harry had treated him horribly, had said awful things to him, all because of one tiny little misunderstanding. Harry knew once Louis understood why Harry had acted that way that Louis would get it, and would forgive him – probably, he already had – but Harry still felt rotten for being so deliberately hurtful to his sweet Louis.

So, now, it was Harry’s turn to take care of Louis, the way Louis always took care of Harry. He wasn’t particularly sure what to do to make him feel better, but he knew he needed to try.

When Harry had ever been hurt, Louis had somehow _known_ what to do for Harry – and as great as it was for Harry _then_ , it certainly didn’t help him _now_ , because it didn’t give him any clues for what to do for him. Harry sat cuddled up to Louis as he let Louis pet his stomach and play with his fingers, mentally going through the things Louis had done to comfort Harry: holding Harry’s hand, kissing his face, caressing basically any stretch of skin he could get his hands on, getting him off, holding him, squeezing him really tight, talking sweetly to him… the list went on and on. 

Sighing, Harry rolled so he was more turned into Louis, his back towards his mum and Robin. Harry’s face was smushed against Louis’ chest, making Louis quietly laugh down at him, so Harry kissed him through his shirt. Harry, for some reason, felt the urge to be _closer_ , so he wrapped his arms around Louis’ waist and pulled himself closer, burying his face into Louis’ chest. He kissed at the shirt and nuzzled it, starting to whisper things he would never know how to say out loud, hoping Louis would at least understand the gesture, if not the actual words. Louis’ hand scratched through his hair, and Harry thought that he probably understood both.

\---

Though Harry wasn’t really all that picky, he knew Louis was, so when Robin asked Harry where he wanted to go for dinner – and Harry barely even flinched (though he did tighten his hold on Louis’ waist) – Harry looked up to Louis in askance. Louis had shrugged, and Harry wrinkled his nose, silently telling Louis he didn’t want to pick. 

“How about a Logan’s, then?” Louis had asked quietly, when Harry’s ‘Ermmmm’ had gone on far too long. 

“Is there a Logan’s Roadhouse around here?” Harry had asked, rolling over just slightly so he could see his mum and Robin.

“Next exit, I think,” Robin had answered. “Is that good with everyone?” He asked, glancing in the mirror and over to Anne. When everyone nodded, Robin smiled and nodded, too, and Harry rolled back over to get more comfortable.

The rest of the ride was quiet, and they were quickly seated when they went in. Harry sat across from his mum, and Louis sat next to Harry and across from Robin. The place was busy, but not crowded, and they almost immediately got their rolls and drinks. Trying to forget about the slight bit of awkwardness that hung between Louis and him – partly because he knew there was no need to focus on it when they couldn’t very well talk it out right then, and partly because he really needed Louis to help him get through the dinner – Harry slid his hand over Louis’ knee to get his attention, leaning close to ask him what he was getting.

Harry knew he was being clingy – even more than usual – but Louis was patient, sliding a hand over Harry’s on his knee and leaning in as well, like they were whispering secrets rather than discussing the menu. On the other side of the table, Anne and Robin were being much more mature and discussing the food like normal people, at a normal distance from each other and at a normal volume. Harry watched them interact, seeing the way his mum blushed a bit under Robin’s attention, and the way it seemed like Robin drew his energy from his mum, only to give it back to her by way of heart-eyes and smiles. They shared the same wrinkled noses and scrunched up mouths and eye rolls as Harry often saw himself and Louis sharing, and it kind of made Harry realize that maybe Robin was his mum’s _Louis_.

And it was a really scary thought – because even though Harry knew in his head that his mum didn’t like Robin _better than him_ , or that she didn’t think Harry _wasn’t enough_ , it was still weird to think of his mum loving someone else other than _him_ – but it was also, in a strange way, kind of sweet. Harry remembered how easily his mum had adjusted to Louis being in her life, and though it was probably easier for her because she knew one day that _of course_ , Harry would start dating – eventually – Harry figured it might’ve been a little weird to watch her only son start to come alive and start to tentatively love someone else, and he wondered if she was at all blown away by how different Harry was, now, under the spell of real, actual _love_ , for the first time ever. 

If his mum could do it – could welcome Louis into her life as much as Harry’s, could learn to love him and accept him and even _want_ him in her life, for Harry’s sake – then he could at least try to do the same for her. 

Harry looked away from his mum and her boyfriend and looked over to _his_ boyfriend, who had easily decided what he wanted and was already watching Harry with a loaded expression. Harry’s eyes went a little wide with his realization as he whispered to Louis, “Lou, I have to – I have to let him be my mum’s _you_.”

Louis looked confused for a second, but he seemed to pick up on Harry’s wavelength rather quickly because his face softened out and he squeezed Harry’s hand under the table. “You can do it, sweetheart,” he whispered back with an encouraging nod. “I’m here. I’m always right here.”

Harry looked into his eyes, feeling a little slice of panic slash its way into his lovely epiphany when he realized letting Robin in meant actually _letting him in_ – talking to him, being around him a lot, seeing him all the time, talking to his mum about him, liking him, maybe even learning to love him a bit – and Louis shook his head minutely, squeezing Harry’s hand again. “Don’t go there, babe,” he warned quietly. His thumb swept across the back of Harry’s hand softly. “One step at a time. He knows that.”

Harry nodded along, trying to calm himself down, and he picked up his menu, clearing his throat as he peeked over the top at Robin and Anne, finally actually paying __attention to what they were saying. When he realized Robin still hadn’t decided what to eat, Harry saw an opportunity and flipped to the back of the menu to scan through before clearing his throat. “Hey, erm, R-Robin,” he said, going for casual.

The table quieted immediately, and Harry felt the mild surprise from everyone, including himself (and especially Louis), but before it got overly awkward, Robin said, “Yeah?”

Harry breathed out, a little relieved, and his hand was tightening on Louis’ knee as he asked, “What do you, erm, think you’re gonna get?”

Robin was obviously trying to act like Harry was speaking with the clarity and eloquence of a _normal_ , somewhat-intelligent sixteen-year-old, rather than a mildly stupid toddler with a troublesome speech problem, because he flipped through his menu casually as he mused, “I’m not sure yet; I’ve only been here a few times. I was thinking the sirloin and salad and potatoes, but I won’t be able to eat all of that, and your mum’s making fun of me for it.” Robin grimaced as Harry’s mum giggled next to him, playfully leaning into him briefly. “What do you think?” He asked Harry.

Harry looked through the back page again before he cleared his throat and said, a little timidly, “Erm, d-d’you want to, like… split something?” His cheeks flushed when Robin looked up at him, but his eyes were brown, and Harry took a deep breath before he continued, staring at the menu like it’d give him all the answers as he babbled through nerves. “It’s – erm, on the – on the back page, there’s like a, erm, a deal-type thing? You can pick, like, four things, and – erm, yeah. Just, erm, I remember, ‘cause, like, once, me and Louis came here? I mean, not _here_ , but like, the one at home? Erm, with his mum and sisters. And it was – we’d already eaten so we just had, like a side-thing and shared that…but his mum, erm, his mum and sister – the middle one, Fliss – they did that. I don’t – I don’t remember what they got, though…sorry.”

Harry peeked up from the menu under his fringe – first at his mum, because she was safest, and saw her looking thrilled, and Harry flushed with a little bit of pride. He knew to anyone else it’d be really stupid, like, sharing food with someone being such a big deal, but it was – it was more than that, kind of, because it was really Harry, like, reaching out to Robin, even though they all knew he was kind of scared of him, a little bit. And it was Harry _offering_ , rather than just waiting for Robin to come to him. 

Harry peeked sideways next, at Louis, who was looking at his menu, face casual and looking like he wasn’t even paying attention – but Harry saw the bit of flush coming up from his neck and the tilt of his lips at the corners. Louis was _proud_. 

His pride gave Harry the strength to look up at Robin – though, at first, it was under his fringe, as well, just to be sure – and he saw that Robin was doing kind of the same thing as Louis, except that he didn’t look like he wasn’t paying attention. He looked more like he was trying to be casual, like before, and Harry was glad because anything else probably would’ve made it even more awkward or embarrassing. He was looking between the menu and Harry, so Harry steeled himself before he lifted his face more. 

When Robin saw Harry was looking at him, he said, “Don’t worry; it’s fine. Erm, sure, though, yeah. That’s a good idea, actually. What’d you want to get?” 

“Whatever you want’s fine,” Harry said quickly, a little bit of relief that Robin hadn’t shot him down, but mostly in effort to do whatever Robin wanted. 

Robin looked a little guarded after that answer, though, and he and Anne shared a look Harry didn’t quite understand well. 

Harry needed to learn that look. 

Robin turned back to Harry and said, “How about I pick two, you pick two, and we can share what we both want?” He lifted his eyes and looked straight into Harry’s, catching him a little off-guard, because he hadn’t really done that much – like, ever. 

Harry quickly dropped his head, his breathing kicking up just a tiny bit, but he nodded, raising his head back up to at least look at Robin’s _face_ , if not his _eyes_. “Erm, yeah,” he said a little breathily. “I’ll – erm, can I get the, erm – their macaroni and cheese is good…and, erm – I’ll – I’ll get the fruit salad?” He looked uncertainly between Louis and Robin, and when neither of them objected, he relaxed a bit more. “Erm, yeah. I’ll – I’ll get the macaroni and cheese and the – the fruit salad, I think. Okay." 

“Sounds good,” Robin said, bobbing his head aimlessly as he perused the options for the deal. “Think I’ll get…potatoes…and…the sirloin, probably – how do you like yours?” Robin asked, looking back up at Harry. 

Harry looked up from where he had been meticulously folding his menu and blushed a bit, answering, “I – erm, medium-rare, or medium. Whatever’s – whatever’s good with you, I don’t –” He looked between Louis and Robin again, feeling a little overwhelmed, and he scratched his forehead, feeling a little shocked when his finger came back wet from sweating. 

Louis chose that moment to start a noisy coughing fit, and Harry turned bodily toward him to pat at his back, reaching for his water and try to get him to sit up straight to drink it. “Here, here, babe, drink – here you go,” Harry babbled to him, rubbing his back soothingly while Louis stopped coughing long enough to get water down his throat. “Alright?” Harry asked warily once he put it down. 

“Yeah,” Louis said, gesturing to the bucket of complimentary peanuts in the center of the table. “The peanut went down the wrong pipe, is all.” 

While Anne and Robin laughed a little and then started talking again, Harry furrowed his brows. Louis didn’t eat the peanuts at Logan’s, because anyone could touch them and he thought that was disgusting; he’d told Harry so when they went with Jay and his sisters. He looked at Louis questioningly, but Louis grabbed Harry’s hand and squeezed it. “All good?” He asked him quietly, eyes searching Harry’s face. 

Harry smiled. Louis had started a pretend-coughing fit to get the attention from Harry so he could relax a bit more. 

Harry leaned in a bit closer and nuzzled briefly at Louis’ shoulder before he pulled back a bit. “I’m okay,” he answered just as quietly. “Just bit off a bit more than I thought I could chew,” he added, and Louis detected the hint of bitterness in his voice and squeezed his hand. 

“You’re doing _great_ , babe,” he whispered sincerely, making Harry flush with pleasure. 

The waiter came back before long and they ordered, chatting amongst themselves. Robin got ordered the sirloin done medium, because he preferred his cooked a bit more and decided to compromise with Harry, who felt his meat should all but ‘moo’ at him (much to Louis’ disgust). The decision to compromise made Harry blush and lower his eyes, a flutter going through his stomach strangely for his opinion being considered, but Louis was there, like always, squeezing his hand and winking privately at him. 

Harry really needed to do something special for Louis soon. 

Robin brought up the topic of football, which was a familiar enough subject that Louis jumped into it immediately, Harry following, a bit more quietly, behind, and Anne listened on with an expression of vague amusement and only slight actual interest. Harry did have to admit, it was kind of amusing how Robin and Louis disagreed over teams and players and calls of recent games they’d both taken interest in, fighting amicably and playfully insulting the other’s taste in football. Harry contributed a little shyly to the conversation, mostly only adding to things Louis said and not really saying anything _against_ Robin’s taste and opinion, and he could tell Louis picked up on it, because Louis started arguing points of Harry’s opinions, too – even the ones that were different from his own. Harry glanced over to his mum when Louis did it the first few times, and saw that she was covering her mouth from laughing, watching them all in fond delight. 

The food came, and eventually, his mum got tired of not understanding the topic, so she asked Harry quietly what certain words meant, and as Robin and Louis kept discussing the finer points, Harry elaborated to her on the more basic facts. 

Robin meant to divide the sirloin right down the middle, but Harry blushed and said he couldn’t eat it all, so he gave Harry about a third of it, and he took the bigger part of the potatoes but gave Harry most of the macaroni and cheese since he’d said he liked it so much (making Harry blush again, stupidly) and giving Harry the slightly bigger portion of the fruit salad, proclaiming an indifference to it. 

Harry blushed a bit when he saw Louis eyeing the fruit salad, wondering if Louis was noticing all the berries and fruits that stood out, with their high acid count and vitamin C, but neither of them said anything, and Harry made it a point to eat those after he ate his bit of the potatoes and all his macaroni and cheese, saving the sirloin for last, and shyly offering Robin the rest of it. Robin accepted with thanks, and Harry ducked his head demurely and waved it off. 

Anne and Robin talked about their days – Harry and Louis awkwardly skipped theirs, since it’d been so emotional and sucky – and Robin asked Louis about the mum and sisters Harry had mentioned. By the time Louis was done bragging about his sisters, the check had already come and they were gathering all their things to leave. 

Louis wrapped his hand around Harry’s waist, and when Anne and Robin turned around to lead the way out (holding hands, Harry noticed), he leaned and kissed Harry’s temple. “You were so good tonight, sweetheart,” he murmured quietly, and Harry instantly relaxed a little, smiling and leaning against Louis a little more. 

In the car on the way home, Harry and Louis leaned against each other, their fingers tangling and Louis kissing Harry’s curls occasionally when Robin and Anne weren’t looking. Harry relaxed into Louis, a bit drained from having his emotions so all over the place the last day-ish, and Louis rubbed fingers over his skin until he eventually fell asleep. 

Louis woke Harry up sweetly when Robin turned down his street, scratching at his scalp and coaxing him awake with a soft cooing voice. 

Harry opened his eyes a little blearily, looking straight ahead, and he shot up when he saw his father’s face staring at him in the rearview mirror. 

“Shhh, come here, you’re fine,” Louis whispered, wrapping his arms around Harry, slowly enough that Harry could move away but firm enough that Harry could easily let them lock him in. 

Harry let Louis lock him in, realizing quickly that they were still in Robin’s car, almost home, and that it was _Robin’s_ face in the mirror. Harry leaned heavily on Louis, laughing a little awkwardly, but his mum hadn’t even noticed, and when Robin looked at him in the mirror again, the half of his face Harry _could_ see seemed a little understanding. 

Robin pulled into the driveway, behind Harry’s mum’s car, and Harry and Louis unbuckled and got out while he opened Anne’s door for her. Harry pretended not to see when Robin held her hand and kissed her cheek, and he turned away when Anne kissed him square on the mouth, smiling up at him happily. Harry grabbed his and Louis’ bags from the trunk, and Louis held his hand as they walked into the house, leaving his mum outside with Robin. Harry tried to ignore the uneasy feeling he had, knowing it was just after thinking he’d seen his father in the mirror. Robin was a good guy; not his father. 

Harry and Louis were already getting ready for bed when they heard Anne come into the house, and Harry kissed Louis’ shoulder when he walked past him, wanting to say goodnight to his mum. 

Harry met her as she climbed the stairs, and they wordlessly hugged each other tight. She pulled back and gripped Harry’s shoulders, staring at him hopefully and asked, “Well? Did you – did you have fun? What do you think?” 

Harry knew she was talking about a deeper level – _did you at least enjoy yourself a bit with the love of my life, what do you think about him, do you think you could deal with him without having flashbacks or panic attacks or belligerent and/or violent lashing-outs_ – but he was too tired to think about any of that, so he just shook his head gravely. “No,” he said heavily, sighing for emphasis, “I think you should just end it now, honestly.” 

His mum’s face fell, but she quickly tried to fix it. “W-why?” She asked, swallowing tightly. 

Harry sighed. “I just don’t think I want to be around someone with such awful taste in football,” he said, and laughed tiredly when he got a slap in the arm from his indignant mother. Over her relieved scolding, he said, “And you’re so vulnerable, so susceptible to his horrendous influence, with your _naivety_ , Mum! I don’t want him ruining your reputation!" 

Harry laughed as his mum shushed him through relieved laughs and a hug, and Harry quieted when she whispered, “Thank you for doing that.” 

Harry hugged her back gently, nuzzling his face against her, and breathed in her smell. “Love you, Mummy,” he murmured, and she squeezed him tighter before letting him go, cupping his face with a smile. 

“You’ll always be my baby,” she replied, and Harry nodded, leaning in to kiss her cheek. 

“’Night, Mum,” Harry said. 

“Good night, baby,” she murmured with a smile, swiping her thumb over his cheek one more time before heading off towards her room. 

Harry watched her go, smiling a little to himself, before he looked to his door. His smile melted off his face and turned into a frown as he thought about the fight, what a prat he was and how Louis didn’t understand any of it because Harry hadn’t explained, what an idiot he felt like because he hadn’t let Louis just _explain_ in the first place… Even though it was wonderful and sweet, the absolutely _perfect_ way Louis had treated Harry throughout the dinner and car ride made Harry feel even worse, and he hoped Louis didn’t feel like Harry was using him for the comfort and was actually still upset with him. 

They had a lot to talk about. 

Harry sighed and swallowed hard, trying his best to steel himself for the discussion as he walked into his room. As he opened the door, picturing Louis sitting up against his wall, legs crossed in front of him, wearing his glasses as he waited on Harry so they could talk everything out, he smiled at the sight that greeted him. 

Louis curled around Harry’s body pillow, clutching it tight with his arms and legs wrapped around it, face pressed into it, glasses off and laying on the nightstand next to his alarm clock. Louis looked like he was nearly asleep, but he opened one eye momentarily when he heard Harry’s door creak just a tiny bit, like always. When he saw it was Harry, Louis’ eye closed again and he relaxed, letting go of the pillow a bit and rolling a little more onto his back so Harry could crawl in and replace his pillow’s spot. 

Harry crawled into bed, but he hesitated, and Louis misinterpreted his reluctance and groaned a tiny bit. 

“Sweetheart, can we talk tomorrow?” He begged. “I _swear_ , you can come into the shop tomorrow and I’ll close my books and tell the guys to fuck off and get their own damn tools so we can talk in the office, and we can even go to the Jungle if you want to talk some more after that, but I am so tired –” 

“No, I, erm,” Harry interrupted, biting his lip. He slid under the covers, but didn’t turn, and he asked, “I was actually – c-could I be the, erm…the big spoon tonight? Just – I really want to – I really want to hold you, tonight.” Harry left it at that, and as Louis smiled and rolled over, backing into Harry’s hold and sighing when Harry wrapped around him, Harry let himself think the words he didn’t quite know how to say out loud. _I really want to make you feel loved and treasured, for once; I really want to feel you curl into me; I really want you to see how wonderful it can feel, going to sleep and knowing how safe and actually happy you are; I want you to know how it feels to be me, and know how special someone special thinks you are._

_I really want to wrap my arms around you and feel like I might deserve to keep you forever._


	32. Part 31.

Louis woke suddenly, eyes jolting open in the dark of the room. Harry’s fingers brushed against Louis’ stomach when Louis moved to stretch, and Louis smiled and relaxed back into the burrow of Harry’s strong hold. 

Louis wasn’t sure what woke him, but when he glanced at the clock, he wanted to groan – it wasn’t even three in the morning yet. He tried to get back to sleep, but he was only even vaguely tired, and sleep just wouldn’t come and take him away. 

Louis slowly extracted himself from Harry’s arms, and though Harry made a supremely unimpressed sound at the loss of Louis’ warmth, he stayed asleep. Louis slid out of bed and pawed around on the ground until he found some shorts, finding himself thirsty. He walked downstairs and grabbed some water, not wasting too much time because he knew Harry would wake up before long after losing Louis’ space-heater warmth, and when Louis made it back upstairs to Harry’s room, he snagged Harry’s laptop on the way to the bed, thinking he could snuggle back up to Harry and check his Facebook and twitter, and check if he’d gotten any important e-mails from potential schools or scouts.

Louis climbed into bed next to Harry, sitting up against the wall and waiting until Harry readjusted around him, snuffling and nuzzling against Louis’ hip as he wrapped his arms around one of Louis’ thighs, thumb sweeping softly over the skin there. Louis smiled down at him fondly and opened up the computer, typing in Harry’s password and moving to open up a new tab, when a bold line of text caught his eye.

_Manicoot: @ballcox39 “i really think he was just being nice. I think going down on a guy is soooo nasty, dirty!!” Man u must be really young! **Theirs nothing wrong with oral sex!**_

Bewildered, Louis scanned over the screen, seeing it was a forum thread of some sort, and all the users were quoting each other and talking about blowjobs. Louis’ brows furrowed as he read.

_Lickedyclit: maybe he shaves down there and hadn't in a while and thought she might scrape her face or maybe he has herpes? or he wanted to use a condom but doesn't like a blow job with a condom on_

_RealTalkk: maybe shes just really ugly. Or even if she’s not, she probz had an ugly come-face, or was bad in bed_

_bigBrown: mayb she has a snaggletooth and he pictured it shredding up his dick lolololol!_

_Haniblecanibal: your girlfriend needs to just calm down, they just had sex, he probably just couldn’t get it up so fast again._

_PotandPussy: if they’d smoked pot then that’s y cuz wen ya girl got cottonmouth, head HUUUUUUUURTS_

_EatItJackson50: if she did something he didn’t like during sex, maybe he thought she’d do something he REALLY wouldn’t like during a bj. ….or maybe he has an std or warts or something._

_Ladeekiller89: sounds like this guy bats for the other team, if u know what I mean ;X_

_Manicoot: @Ladeekiller89 “sounds like this guy bats for the other team, if u know what I mean ;X” HAHA that or hes fuckin some other chick on the low and didn’t want her tastin the other girl’s_ -

Louis made a noise of disgust as he scrolled up to the top of the forum, searching for the topic discussion and sighing when he found it.

_**Guy Rejects Blowjob??** _

Underneath the title, the original poster had written a short blurb: _a girl-friend of mine got really upset when her bf had sex with her but then turned her down when she offered a blowjob. She’s realy upset about it but didn’t want to ask him, and I’m not sure what to tell her – what kind of guy says no to a blowjob from his girlfriend???_

Louis looked down to his boyfriend and scratched through his messy curls, thinking through his and Harry’s fight. Every single one of these submissions – save the one about the man cheating – was something Harry brought up, genuinely wondering about. 

_Was it because I broke your stupid hair rule? Did I look ugly when I – when I came? Did I taste bad? Do I have, like, smelly come, or something? What? Was it something I did, or was it you? Do you, like – have something? Are you secretly straight?_

Louis sighed again, pulling his fingers from Harry’s hair when he made grumpy noises at being disturbed in sleep. When he noticed at the top that the back button was highlighted, Louis clicked it and couldn’t help chuckling a little, despite the actual seriousness of the entire situation. 

Clicking back had taken Louis to a Google results page, and at the top, Harry had typed in, _reasons why men would say no to a blowjob_. Several of the resulting hyperlinks were colored differently, showing Harry had clicked on them and had actually done a good deal of looking for answers, and Louis’ heart twinged at the mental picture of Harry sitting alone on his bed with bloodshot eyes and a runny nose, sucking on his lip as he sniffed away tears, looking desperately – on the _internet_ , of all places – for reasons why his boyfriend had just rejected him so suddenly.

Louis just wished Harry would’ve asked _him_ , or even Liam or Niall, or something, rather than these cocky douchebags hidden by the anonymity of the internet. 

Louis looked back down at Harry when he started moving around, groaning because he preferred to have his head cushioned on top of the warmth of Louis’ skin, and it was currently on a pillow. His eyebrows drew together and Louis knew he was in trouble seconds before Harry opened his eyes, blinking slowly and following the line of Louis’ torso up to his face in puzzlement. His eyes flickered between the quietly-humming laptop and Louis’ face a few times, and Louis knew it clicked in Harry’s mind when his eyes grew a little wide.

“Harry,” Louis began, but Harry was already tense and turning weird colors as a result of the light of the laptop. Harry tucked his face into Louis’ thigh, and Louis closed the computer and gently tossed it to the foot of the bed before he shifted down, slowly. 

When Louis had Harry cradled in his arms, both of them laying down on the bed, Louis kissed Harry’s cheek. “Harry,” he tried again, but Harry’s face was burning against his cheek. “Why are you hiding from me?” Louis asked gently, stroking Harry’s curls away from his face.

“’M not,” Harry said stubbornly, and Louis chuckled softly into his temple as he kissed it.

“Are you sure?” He asked softly, rubbing Harry’s back. 

Harry only nodded, though. “Sleepy,” he insisted. “Sleepy-time. Sleep.” 

Louis acquiesced; Harry really didn’t seem into talking about it, so he murmured his assent and rolled over when Harry started pushing and tugging him into the right spot. Harry’s hand gripping Louis’ hip and pulled him back, and Louis closed his eyes when he felt Harry’s cock – soft – press up against his bum. Harry held him there, like he wanted to make sure Louis didn’t try and get away, and Louis kept as still as he could so Harry would relax and get some sleep. 

Finally, Harry’s stern, bossy grip softened on Louis’ hipbone and shifted up, scratching softly at Louis’ belly until Louis slid his fingers between Harry’s, encouraging him to be still and drift off. 

Harry snuffled in, craning his neck to smush his face in the crook of Louis’, making Louis shy away with a little breathy giggle because it tickled a little – but it only made Harry grump a bit, so Louis put up with it and let Harry get comfortable around him, knowing he was only gluing himself to Louis’ back because he was embarrassed and trying to avoid the confrontation he obviously thought was about to happen. 

He eventually got still, and Louis whispered, “Love you,” like he did every night they spent together, but Harry didn’t answer, instead squeezing Louis tight and wiggling impossibly closer to him, wedging one of his ankles between Louis’ feet.

Just when Louis thought Harry had dropped off into unconsciousness, Harry mumbled, “I was scared it meant you were gonna finish with me.” 

Louis meant to turn around to face him for it, but Harry stubbornly clamped down, arms and legs holding Louis in place so tightly that Louis couldn’t help but realize with a tingle that _Harry was bigger than him_. “No, I –” Harry protested, dropping it when Louis stilled. “I thought – when you said no, I thought it – it was because you were planning to finish with me since you’re going off to school….and you wanted me to – to have a, erm, a good…blowjob…but didn’t want to take away my, like, first one to _give_ , or – or whatever. Like – like you still cared, but…but not enough?”

Louis squeezed Harry’s hand, where it rested on his stomach. “Harry, that’s –” Louis stopped himself, realizing he didn’t know what to say. In truth, he hadn’t even _thought_ about what he and Harry would do when he went off to school; he’d been too busy worried about being _accepted_ into schools, first. With that in mind, Louis knew he couldn’t give Harry the answers he needed about their relationship after his graduation – not sure, honest, decisive ones, anyway – and his heart pounded painfully in his chest when he realized that, for the first time in their relationship, though the ball was in his court – though Louis had the _power_ to – he couldn’t take care of Harry.

But Harry wasn’t on the same wavelength, Louis soon realized with twisted relief. 

“No, I know it’s not why, now,” he murmured, scratching softly at Louis’ stomach again briefly. “I know it’s – it’s not to do with any of that. You – you told me, in the locker room. …I just. I dunno? I was so, like… _desperate_ , to hear something else. Some other reason why you could’ve said no…and I didn’t think once it was something like – like what you said. I just – so I looked, right, and…and I guess you figured that out…online. Erm, on my computer.” He took a few breaths before he admitted, “I didn’t – I didn’t – when we were arguing, like, on the bus? When I was asking you all those reasons, like, why I thought you’d said no…I couldn’t – I couldn’t bring myself to ask you if – if you were gonna finish with me, if that was the real reason. Why you said no. I was – too afraid, to, like…see the answer on your face? Even more than from your mouth, I just – I didn’t want to _see_ it. I couldn’t. And then – then I thought about – about how, like…how many people had got to _have_ you, and you didn’t even love any of them, you know? You didn’t – you didn’t really care about them, not like me, at least – and I – that’s why I said that – that bit about, like, where your, erm, penis, or whatever – where it’s been. I was – I just got so jealous, and so, like, mad, because it wasn’t fair, like – you didn’t care about those people, and _they_ got to have you, but you loved me and were gonna finish with me and I didn’t. It was – God, Louis, it was so messed up, and I – I’m so sorry. I know it hurt your feelings, and I – I felt so horrible the second I said it, and – but I was, like, such a jerk, and I didn’t even – I didn’t even say I was _sorry_.”

Louis had listened to Harry’s explanation the way people never can look away from a train wreck – with that horrible, terrified not-quite-fascination, like his ears were frozen to Harry’s voice and Harry’s voice alone. Louis almost didn’t want to even process any of it.

But he turned around, and he plastered himself to Harry, and he kissed his forehead and hugged him tight, letting Harry struggle against oncoming tears as he swallowed a few lumps in his own throat. He held Harry tight, squeezing him closer and closer until Harry sighed, going calmer. As Harry relaxed, Louis could feel his own internal struggles ease up a bit, and he admitted, “Harry, you _have_ to believe me when I say I’ve never wanted anyone as bad as I want you – in _every_ way. I want to experience things for the first time with you, and I want to give you everything I’ve got…and I’m not too ashamed to admit that I’m so selfish, I want to take everything you have to give me. There will _never_ – _never_ , Harry – there will never be something that I wouldn’t want from you, unless it would hurt you or someone else I love.”

Louis swallowed hard and shifted back just enough to get a finger under Harry’s chin, tilting his face up to look him in the eye. “Baby, if you think I don’t want your mouth on me, you’re absolutely mad,” he said, trying to keep his voice from going husky at the thought of it. Harry licked his lips like it was involuntary, and Louis’ eyes followed the movement before he remembered they were in a serious discussion. “I want it – I want it so bad, Harry. …But not if I’m going to hurt you or scare you. I’d rather never have you at all than hurt you, sweetheart. And I’m so sorry if that hurts your feelings, but – I’d rather hurt your feelings a tiny bit, make you a little insecure about yourself, than actually _hurt you_ – physically, or scar you mentally or emotionally. Does that – I mean, you can see it, now, right? Where I’m coming from? Would _you_ ever do anything that would hurt _me_?”

Harry was quiet for a few heartbeats, but Louis felt him shaking his head. “No, of course not,” Harry finally said, his eyes wide like he was begging Louis to believe him. “I’d never – I _never_ want to hurt you.”

Louis leaned in and pressed a kiss to Harry’s cheek. “I know, babe. But that’s why. I mean, that’s why I didn’t let you suck me off. In the heat of the moment, I didn’t – have the words to explain, like, ‘ _hey, I might fuck up into your throat; don’t panic or anything_ ’, and I couldn’t just let you _go through with it_ , especially without knowing I have next-to-no control during blowjobs, because that’d hurt you. There was – you know, there was no other choice for me.”

Harry nodded, the skin of his cheek rubbing against Louis’. “No, that – that makes sense,” he said slowly. “And I’m – I’m so sorry, Louis. Almost everything I said, it was so – no, let me finish,” he said when Louis opened his mouth. “It was so awful, and I had _no right_ to talk to you that way. It was really disrespectful and even – even if I’m upset, I don’t get to talk to you that way.” Louis heard Harry swallow. “I – erm, back in the – in the Jungle, when I wouldn’t let you talk…that was – more than anything I was just, like…really embarrassed? And I – I know you didn’t _mean_ to, or whatever, because you _never_ mean to, but I – I kind of felt like you didn’t want me, or something, ‘cause you were – were so quick, like, to say no, and stuff. So that’s why – that’s why I didn’t, like. Why I didn’t want to talk to you. And ‘cause like –” Harry blushed. “I – erm, I really wanted to – to, erm. Suck you off.”

Louis chuckled quietly, and felt another round of warmth from Harry’s cheek on his. “Well, trust me – I want you to,” he said honestly. “Just, you know, I want to kind of – I don’t know. Mentally prepare myself, or something. I’m not really sure if I could train myself to stay still during a blowjob without _getting a blowjob_ , but…I guess I could work on it.”

The hand Harry had on Louis’ back twitched a little bit. “I – I have an idea,” he admitted slowly, as his fingers started scratching lightly at Louis’ back and his mouth started curving upward.

“Yeah?” Louis asked. “What’s that?”

Harry cleared his throat shyly. “I, erm. Just thought, you know – maybe I could – maybe, if I, like…practiced with, erm. With – hand jobs. With you, I mean. And you, like…tried to – keep still? And it could – it could be like, kind of, ‘cause the – stimulation, or – or whatever, it could – be like a blowjob. Kind of. Not – not _really_ , obviously, but. I dunno. It’s something?”

Harry’s hand had started sinking when he was talking, and it was now dipping under Louis’ shorts, fingers dusting over the waistband of Louis’ boxers, just over his bum. Louis bit his lip, squirming and trying not to get hard as he tried to reason his way into fairness. “Harry, babe, you can’t just – you can’t just – I mean, what are you getting out of –”

Harry’s hand squeezed Louis’ bum and pulled their hips together, and Louis felt Harry’s cock starting to stiffen up. “If you’re so worried about it, you could always return the favor and get me off,” he said, his voice starting to dip lower and lower.

It sent a thrill up Louis’ spine, and he couldn’t help it – his hips moved forward, just a bit, and Louis felt Harry’s lips at his neck as he massaged Louis’ bum. “I take it you’re on board?” He asked. 

Louis groaned at the excited smugness in Harry’s voice and nodded. “Yeah,” he said, and Harry sucked at his neck as he pulled Louis closer. “That – that sounds like a good plan,” Louis added.

“Okay,” Harry said with a little nip to Louis’ jawline. “Let’s start now.” He pushed Louis a little more, so he was flat on his back, and Louis squeaked a bit.

“ _Now_?!” He asked, gasping a tiny bit when Harry climbed almost completely on top of him. “Harry, your mum –”

“She doesn’t wake up ‘til five; it’s just past three,” Harry said, muffled as he kissed down Louis’ throat. “Just be quiet and we’re fine,” he added, his voice dropping low enough to make Louis’ cock throb. 

Louis finally let himself relax, wrapping his arms loosely around Harry’s neck and threading fingers into his hair to keep his mouth sucking at his neck. Louis tilted his head back and groaned, rolling his hips up into Harry’s. 

Harry hummed against Louis’ throat and his hand left Louis’ bum to grip his hipbone, squeezing just a bit before he bit at the junction of Louis’ neck and shoulder. Louis gasped and tried his best to muffle his groan, biting on his lips and tightening his grip on tendrils of Harry’s curls. Harry’s hips rolled down at the slight pull of his hair, and then he was pulling back, forcing Louis to let go. 

Harry sat between Louis’ thighs, and he leaned forward to kiss Louis’ sternum when he pulled off Louis’ shorts, dropping them behind him and sliding his hands up Louis’ legs, the way Louis had done to him a few nights previous.

Louis closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the pillows, breathing a little too loudly to even be _normal_ , as Harry’s giant hands ran up the insides of his thighs, only hesitating a bit before he reached Louis’ boxers. One of Harry’s hands moved to Louis’ hip, and Louis felt Harry nip lightly at the bottom of his belly-button before his tongue glided over it.

Louis made himself relax, trying to remember to keep himself still, but as Harry basically fucked Louis’ belly-button with his tongue, Louis took deep gulps of air, surprised by how good it actually felt. Harry had been right.

The hand not holding Louis’ hip slid over Louis’ cock through his boxers, molding to the shape of it and easily coaxing it into full hardness. Louis’ hip went to twitch just a little, but the hand on his hip flexed and held it down, Harry’s tongue still licking into his belly-button and making Louis wonder how the hell it was so erotic.

Louis felt Harry squeeze his hip, and that was all the warning he got before Harry was pulling Louis’ boxers down past his knees, quickly forgetting them there before he licked his hand and took hold of Louis’ hard. Louis bit his lip and breathed harshly through his nose, and Harry added the same twist as last time as he went up, squeezing at Louis’ head and repeating the motion enough to get into a rhythm a little slower than Louis usually used on himself.

Louis opened his eyes when Harry’s hand slowed to a stop and looked down to see Harry shifting around on the bed to get comfortable. He shuffled back on his knees and laid down between Louis’ legs, leaning on his elbows braced next to Louis’ legs, and his head rested on Louis’ thigh as he looked up at the cock in his hand.

“Harry, what –” Louis began, but Harry shushed him.

“Shh, remember you have to be quiet,” Harry said, with the air of the bossy teacher’s pet in kindergarten. “I’m just looking,” he added after, his cheeks blushing. 

Glad that he at least was doing something without asking if it was weird, Louis licked his lips and nodded, reaching out to rub his fingertips across Harry’s forehead. It was a bit of an awkward and useless touch, but Harry closed his eyes and smiled peacefully at it nonetheless.

Harry’s hand stroked up and down once on Louis’ cock, making him jolt a bit (which earned a reproachful look from Harry), and Harry’s thumb pressed gently against the retracted foreskin resting under the head of Louis’ cock. Louis leaned up on his elbows, curious, and he bit his lip when Harry stretched to lick his thumb before rubbing it against his foreskin again. 

Harry looked up right as he did it, watching Louis’ face curiously. “Did that feel good?” He asked, and Louis nodded, lip still clenched between his teeth. 

Grinning a little smugly, though his cheeks were still aflame, Harry gripped just a bit tighter and slid his hand down, watching the skin move over Louis’ cock a bit as he jerked him. Harry swiped his thumb over the head, making precome dribble out and ease the way a bit more. Louis’ head dropped back and he panted a little, Harry’s hand starting to slide a little quicker over his cock. 

The hand on Louis’ hip drew downward and ghosted over Louis’ balls, making his head shoot back up as he moaned. “God, please, Hazza,” he said quietly, and Harry looked up at him.

Harry gently fondled at Louis’ balls, cupping them and letting his fingers sweep over them even as his other hand continued to stroke at Louis’ cock. Louis groaned, probably a little too loud, and Harry’s pace quickened a little bit and Louis gripped the sheets with the effort of keeping his hips still. 

Harry ducked down, maintaining his pace and still playing with Louis’ balls, and sucked kisses close to the base of Louis’ cock, all around it and licking curiously at the bits of pubic hair that had grown back since Louis had shaved himself last. Louis let himself collapse back onto the bed, nearly hitting his head on the wall and not caring in the least. 

“ _Harry_ , fuck,” Louis said, and Harry continued sucking kisses around Louis’ cock, across his hips before he pushed Louis’ thighs apart and sucked marks into the creases of Louis’ thighs. The hand left Louis’ balls and traveled up to tweak Louis’ nipple, making Louis’ back arch a bit as he whined embarrassingly. “Hazza, I’m about to come, babe,” he breathed, stuttering when Harry bent even more and kissed Louis’ perineum wetly.

“Harry, _fuck_ , I –” Louis came when Harry’s grip tightened just a bit, and Louis felt the tip of Harry’s tongue drag right above his hole as Harry licked up his perineum. Louis’ back arched and his toes curled into the sheets, biting his finger in effort not to be loud as Harry continued jerking him through aftershocks, still licking in the creases of his thigh and ignoring the few drops of come in his hair and on his hand. Harry licked up the stray drops of come around Louis’ stomach and thighs as he let Louis’ cock gently down over his stomach, kissing up Louis’ abs next while Louis came down a little bit. 

Louis felt like he might’ve come harder than possibly _ever_ in his life, amazed at Harry’s adventurousness and the sense of control he’d found and reveled in. As Louis took gulps of air while Harry pressed sweet little kisses up his torso, his long curls tickling Louis’ sweaty skin, he decided they would definitely have to talk about it.

Harry kissed up Louis’ jaw and pressed his lips sweetly to Louis’ before he sat up and sucked the come off his hand, his eyes closed like he was tasting something he’d been craving. Louis watched his boyfriend sucking his come off his fingers, and something proud and feral snarled inside Louis’ chest. Harry’s cheeks were flushed and his lips were a dark pink and there was come in his hair and he was not-so-subtly grinding into his palm between Louis’ legs, moaning at the taste of Louis’ come on his tongue.

Louis lurched forward, gripping Harry’s shoulders, soft enough not to hurt him but firm enough to turn him and press him to the mattress, Louis hovering over him. Harry’s eyes had snapped open wide, and they were hungry as he pulled Louis down with hands around the back of his neck for a kiss. Louis tasted himself on Harry’s tongue and moaned, trying (and mostly failing) to be a little disgusted at himself for the sense of possessiveness and _mine mine mine_ going through his head.

“God, Harry, you’re so fucking hot,” he murmured hotly into Harry’s ear as he licked around the shell, sucking on Harry’s earlobe to earn a whine from Harry and nails across his shoulder blades.

Louis clambered over him and nudged his way between Harry’s legs, only daring to grind down when Harry wrapped his legs around Louis’ hips and pulled him down, fingertips digging into Louis’ back harshly. Louis knew he’d have bruises and scratches on his back, and it spurred him so suck below Harry’s ear, at his pulse point until Harry’s heavy breathing got close to hyperventilating, hearing him whine every time their hips rolled together. 

“I love you,” Harry whined as Louis grabbed his thigh and pulled it up higher, hitching it around his hip to open the angle up a bit better and grind a little harder.   
Louis squeezed Harry’s leg and bit down on his shoulder, moaning in slight pain when Harry dragged nails down his entire back as his breath hitched, his orgasm fast-approaching. 

“Love you, too, Hazza,” Louis panted against the dip of Harry’s collar bones as he continued grinding. “Love your hands, so fuckin’ – big.” The hand not holding on to Harry’s hitched-up leg gripped at Harry’s jaw, tilting it upwards as he licked stripes up Harry’s neck, making him pant even louder, his breaths ending in hot, little squeaks. “Love your lips, love your cock – fuck, I love your cock. Love your tongue, Hazza, so good. Drove me crazy, there,” he admitted hotly, pressed directly into Harry’s throat. 

“Can’t wait for you to come, Hazza, wanna taste your come. Gonna come for me, sweetheart?” 

Harry whined and his legs tightened around Louis’ waist, his hands flying to grip at Louis’ hair and pull back, pulling Louis off of him with big gulps of air. 

Immediately, Louis thought he crossed a line, but Harry was whining and his hips were still rolling, even as Louis moved off. “Your mouth, Lou, need – get your mouth on me, _please_ ,” he begged, pushing down at Louis’ strong shoulders. 

Louis breathed out in relief and quickly nodded, attaching his mouth to the line down the middle of Harry’s torso as he slowly pulled down his briefs. 

Sunlight was starting to stream in through the curtains on the window, and Louis looked up at Harry as his hands searched for Harry’s, folding them together as he quickly sucked the head of Harry’s thickened and flushed, hard cock into his mouth. Harry whined and his hips rolled, and Louis sucked further, trying to get Harry to come so he could lick it off. 

Louis watched Harry’s face as he bobbed his head and Harry’s hips jerked like he wasn’t even thinking about controlling them, and Louis moaned around his cock, making Harry’s hands tighten as he chanted Louis’ name faster and faster, getting breathier and breathier before he suddenly surged upward, forcing his cock to the back of Louis’ throat as he came, and Louis quickly pulled off just enough so Harry’s come would drip onto the tip of his tongue and let him taste it. 

Harry was nearly sobbing, his breath shuddery as Louis swallowed his come and let his cock fall against his thigh. Louis crawled back up, next to Harry on the mattress, as Harry took shaky, overwhelmed breaths and wrapped himself around Louis with desperation. 

Louis gathered Harry into his arms, starting to worry he’d hurt or scared Harry with the roughness of it because Harry had actual tears in his eyes now. Every ounce of sexiness drained from the room, sucked into the walls as Louis stroked Harry’s back and murmured to him as he cried into Louis’ neck.

“Baby?” Louis asked quietly, trying to keep the worry from his voice. “Sweetheart, why are you crying? Did I hurt you? Are you okay? Did I scare you, Harry?” 

Harry cried through every question, but he shook his head when Louis asked if he was scared, wrapping his arms tight around Louis’ neck. “Don’t leave me,” he finally sobbed.

Louis clutched Harry tighter and shook his head, rubbing up and down Harry’s sweaty back. “I’m not going anywhere sweetheart; I’m right here. I won’t leave.”

“I love you,” he cried next.

“I love you, too, Harry,” Louis said, his voice cracking with sincerity. “I love you so much, Harry; I didn’t even know I could love someone so much but you’ve got all of it.”

Louis kept murmuring sweet and simple words to Harry, keeping him tucked up against him, until Harry was much calmer. As he murmured mindlessly, Louis wondered how they’d gone from orgasmic bliss to…whatever this was, but Harry shuddered against him and snapped his attention back completely onto his beautiful boy. 

“You – please don’t leave me when you go,” Harry whimpered, and it all clicked in Louis’ mind. 

Louis pulled back just enough to kiss Harry’s soaked cheek. “Oh, baby,” he said quietly. “I haven’t even thought about it, okay? You can’t – that’s way off, still. Please, don’t worry about it until we get there, okay? We’ll figure it out together; I don’t want to lose you, either.”

He knew it didn’t _really_ comfort Harry – at least not in the sense of actual security – but Harry relaxed anyway, like having been told to not worry about it actually made it easier for him not to. Louis pulled away just enough to let them cool off in the hot room a bit. He stayed close enough to kiss Harry, though, until their lips were sore, and Harry sighed, tucking his face underneath Louis’ chin. “I never ever want to fight with you like yesterday again,” he whispered, a tearful edge still in his voice. 

Louis rubbed his side and bent his head to press his face into Harry’s curls. “Let’s not, then,” he whispered. “We’ll communicate better, yeah? All honesty, no being afraid to hear answers we won’t like. We’ll let each other talk and explain, we won’t lie, or make excuses. We’ll – we can control those things, sweetheart. We can.”

Harry nodded and pressed a kiss to Louis’ throat, shuffling forward again, tired from coming and crying and being awake so early. Louis started humming softly, his voice going wispy and cracking every once in a while, but Harry drifted off quickly against the gentle vibrations of his throat, pressed against Harry’s forehead.


	33. Part 32.

By the time the alarm clock had actually gone off to get up and get ready for school, Harry had fallen back to sleep – so it was with every ounce of world-hatred within him that he sat up, stretching to hit snooze, and immediately went back to sleep, burrowing his head back where it had been – between Louis’ neck and his shoulder, with Louis’ arm underneath the pillow, stretched out above his head. Harry’s face was squished in this positioning, but he didn’t really care because he was actually _surrounded_ by Louis, and that was the best, basically.

The snooze button went off again, but this time, Louis got it, sighing and trying not to jostle Harry quite yet, though Harry was already pouting. 

Harry let out an almost-purr when Louis spread his fingers into his messed-up curls and started pressing delicate little kisses down his neck. He wasn’t pressing in close, though, so Harry laid back at let himself enjoy Louis’ ministrations, keeping his eyes shut and humming deep in his throat. Harry wanted to stay with Louis today.

His brows furrowed when he thought about it – because they only ever caught glimpses of each other in school and then at football. They also both had work as well, so it would be nearly eleven or twelve hours until they’d actually be able to spend time together again. 

Apparently, Louis was thinking about the same thing, because he kissed Harry’s cheek and whispered, “Can we skip school today? Or even just be a little late?”

Harry hummed, wanting badly not to separate _at least_ until they had to go to football or work, but he tried being responsible. “Do you have any tests today?” he asked groggily. 

“Just History, and I can make that up tomorrow during third period. We’re not doing anything especially important today.”

He kept massaging Harry’s scalp and nuzzled into Harry’s cheek, breathing slowly against him, and Harry really didn’t want to miss this for half a day. He nodded. “Okay,” he said, injecting a bit happiness into his monotonous-sleepy voice so Louis didn’t think he wasn’t happy about it. “But we should probably catch practice, at least,” he added, and Louis nodded as he settled back down.

“Wanna go back to sleep, sweetheart?” He asked, a bit of amusement in his voice when Harry instantly turned into his chest again.

“No, I’m – just need to wake up, is all,” Harry mumbled, arching his back and flexing his calves to stretch himself out for the morning, moaning when he stretched his arms up and out as far as they could go. The blanket shifted off of his waist, sliding down and exposing his thighs, making him blush a bit, but he ignored it and rubbed his hands down his face and up to run through his hair. He grimaced to himself when he felt it was a little oily, and Louis took a breath like he wanted to say something, pausing when Harry looked over at him.

“What?” Harry asked curiously, watching his boyfriend.

Louis looked down, rubbing his thumb over Harry’s hip before looking back to watch Harry’s face when he said, “I – take a shower with me.”

It was quiet, and Harry wondered if the little tremor in the request was real, because it seemed like Louis had used a lot of courage to ask him, as he was looking at the mattress again, letting Harry consider it in somewhat-privacy. 

Harry thought over last night – their talk, solving the whole fight between them. The sex, and how wonderful it had been to feel like Louis was _claiming_ him, _owning_ him, or something because – if Harry was being honest with himself, it had felt like – like Louis _needed_ him, rather than just _wanted_ him. And it was probably the best feeling of Harry’s life. 

Harry thought about how he had been so happy and it had just suddenly turned into crying, and for a minute he had felt so horrible for ruining the moment until he thought that maybe he had made it better, in a way – by showing Louis that, like, no matter how much Harry was needy and depended on Louis, he always wanted him to stay and, like, even if he didn’t always treat Louis like he appreciated him, he _did_ know he was lucky to have Louis, and that Louis was special to him. Harry decided he probably couldn’t have shown Louis any more genuinely and sincerely other than such an emotional display, as embarrassing as it had been in the moment. 

And now, Louis still wanted to be close to Harry, still wanted to be intimate with Harry. Louis wanted to shower with him, and though Harry had always thought of showering with someone as either really weird or really sexual – think of the _movies_ – Harry suddenly felt like showering with Louis would be incredibly _intimate_ and personal, rather than weird or even sexy (though it was bound to be hot). 

Harry nodded, blushing. “Okay,” he said quietly. The way Louis’ face lit up, like Harry had given him something awesome for Christmas, or something, had made it even better. 

\---

Harry leaned back against Louis, waddle-walking forward with Louis wrapped around him from behind, pressing sweet little kitten kisses by his ear and temple and neck because he knew it tickled Harry. Harry giggled and shied away from it, squeezing Louis’ hands where they rested on Harry’s chest before craning his neck to kiss Louis’ lips instead. 

They moved into the bathroom, Louis flipping the light on while Harry took care of the water temperature, and Harry blushed because he knew Louis was probably looking at his bum. A quick glance over his shoulder had him giggling because instead of letting his eyes rake over Harry’s naked body, Louis was pulling funny faces, waiting for Harry to look back at him. 

Harry made a silly face back and joined Louis at the sink, pulling out his tooth brush and passing Louis the one he kept at Harry’s now. Harry turned over the little hourglass which lasted the two minutes Harry was meant to brush, wetting his toothbrush and squeezing out paste before handing the tube over to Louis. 

Blushing a little, Harry looked shyly at the mirror, searching out Louis’ face in his reflection and dropping his eyes with a poorly-concealed smile around his toothbrush when he saw Louis was doing the same thing. Harry brushed, looking at the counter, before sneaking another glance up at Louis’ reflection, giggling when he caught Louis still watching him. For such a simple thing as brushing his teeth next to someone, it really warmed Harry’s heart and sent little butterflies into his tummy – the same ones he felt on their first date, and every time Louis would press little kitten kisses against his skin, or have that fond look in his eyes whenever he looked at Harry mid-laugh, or whenever he would moan in ecstasy around his fork of a meal Harry had made especially for him. 

It was such a simple, little thing, and something they did every day on their own, but somehow, brushing their teeth _together_ made Harry feel special. 

They rinsed and gargled and put away their things when the hourglass was emptied into the bottom again, and with spearmint-fresh breath, they breathed out the bit of sting from the mouthwash and smiled at each other through the mirror, slowly starting to fog up from the shower water heating up.

Louis took Harry’s hand and kissed his fingertips, leaving Harry giggling like a little girl before pulling his arm, so Louis would come closer. Harry wrapped his arms around Louis’ neck and kissed him chastely, wanting to keep the moment as sweet and innocent as possible for as long as possible. Louis seemed to be content with it, his hands rubbing Harry’s back in a soothing and simple manner, never straying below to grab at his bum or slip into his hair to pull at it. Harry’s fingers tickled aimlessly along the bottom of Louis’ neck and across his shoulders, and Louis pulled back to wrap his lips around Harry’s bottom lip and pull at it like that just a little.

Harry loved when Louis nipped at him like that, just little pinches with his lips. 

When it was warm enough in the bathroom that the entire room was steaming, Louis pulled away from Harry to step into the shower, muttering a quiet swear word before turning the heat down a bit. He peeked around the shower curtain then, and held a hand out to Harry, a gentle smile gracing his lips. 

Harry took Louis’ hand, his stomach fluttering even more, and allowed Louis to pull him into the shower. 

Louis had the shower head tilted so the water was hitting the tiled wall, and when Harry was pressed close to Louis in the tub, Louis’ hands ran from Harry’s chest to his hips, fingers stopping to play at the ridges of muscle Harry had started building and defining a little bit. Harry’s breath stuttered a tiny bit – whether out of nerves or out of Louis’ touch, he wasn’t sure – but Louis leaned down and pressed a kiss directly over Harry’s heart, looking into his eyes when he leaned back. 

“Relax,” Louis whispered softly, pressing their foreheads together. Harry closed his eyes and they swayed on the spot together. “’S just me,” Louis added quietly. Harry could hear the smile in Louis’ voice, so he nodded, willing himself to relax.

Louis reached back and turned the shower head again, directing the water to fall on them, cascading the liquid warmth that had Harry sighing. 

Louis stepped back, and Harry braced his hands on the wall, dropping his head so the water hit the back of his neck and on his shoulders. Harry rolled his shoulders and neck, trying to get them to loosen up, where he was often tight in the mornings. 

Louis came up behind Harry and his hands gripped at Harry’s shoulders, thumbs starting to rub at the tension in his muscles. Harry moaned lowly at the feeling, ignoring the way the water was now running through his hair and causing it to stick to Harry’s face, forcing his eyes shut. 

“Lou, that feels so good,” he said, shifting to press his forehead against the tile. 

Louis chuckled, and Harry smiled softly when he felts Louis’ lips at the center of his back, on the little knob of his spine between his shoulders. His hands fanned out, then, rubbing more vastly against Harry’s shoulders, rather than his neck. Harry hummed, rolling his head so his cheek pressed against the cool of the tile, and he looked back to see Louis watching him with a little smile. Harry blew him a little kiss, and Louis smiled despite himself. 

Louis eventually ended his massage and washed Harry’s hair, being extra careful with the shampoo near his hairline, so he didn’t get any into Harry’s eyes. He blocked Harry’s eyes from the waterfall with a hand pressed against Harry’s forehead as he washed it out, scolding Harry for laughing at him for it. When the shampoo was gone, he lathered a ridiculous amount of conditioner into Harry’s curls, scratching at Harry’s scalp until Harry started getting sleepy. 

Harry blushed when Louis grabbed the body wash, and Louis saw it and paused, a little uncertain for the first time. “Do you want to wash yourself?” He asked, stretching his hand out to give the bottle over.

Harry shook his head firmly, feeling his stomach fluttering madly. “No,” he said quietly, shyly ducking his face. He stepped closer to Louis, staring down at Louis’ feet, and confessed, “I was – I was, erm, hoping – you’d do it?”

Louis beamed for a second, but quickly composed it, and Harry was glad he’d made that choice. 

Louis squirted a handful of body wash into his palm, rubbing his hands together and starting out on Harry’s shoulders, looking concentrated. Harry closed his eyes and tried to stand still as Louis rubbed down Harry’s chest, applying pressure as he went over Harry’s pecs, making Harry rumble deep in his throat because it felt good. Louis squeezed his hands between Harry’s sides and his arms, making sure he got all of everything. His finger dipped into Harry’s belly-button, making Harry jump and then giggle at himself. 

When Louis’ hands reached where Harry usually sat his briefs’ waistline, Louis pulled Harry forward just enough to get the spray on his chest, rubbing his hands all over Harry’s skin to get the suds off. Louis directed Harry to raise his arms, so he did, blushing when Louis’ thick fingers carded through the hair under his arms, making soap suds rise in it and rubbing up his arms before letting him rinse them off. 

Louis kissed Harry’s lips once and moved around to his backside, squirting more body wash into his hands. He started out across Harry’s shoulders again, and Harry’s eyes slipped shut and he tilted his head to the side with a mumble of approval when Louis started kissing softly at the side of his neck. 

Harry stayed still as Louis scrubbed at his back, getting the long lines of muscle and digging into the indentations. 

“Ready?” Louis asked when he reached Harry’s bum.

Harry blushed, but nodded, and he giggled a little bit when Louis’ hands started massaging at his bum because it kind of tickled to have his bum touched if it wasn’t all…sexy. Louis smiled against Harry’s neck, though, so Harry didn’t worry about seeming immature, or whatever (not that he would’ve anyway, probably).

He stiffened a little when Louis separated his bum cheeks, rubbing between them, and Harry sucked in a little breath when two of Louis’ fingers rubbed against his hole and down his perineum, back across his hole and up the line.

“Relax, sweetheart,” Louis said softly, kissing Harry’s neck. “I’m not gonna do anything; I’m just cleaning.”

Harry nodded, swallowing and wondering if he felt disappointed because he was still nervous to be touched there or because Louis said he wasn’t going to do anything. 

Louis turned him over again, letting the spray hit his soaped-up body and helping wash everything off, going slow and tender when he reached Harry’s bum, and the touch of Louis’ fingers against Harry’s hole made Harry blush because he almost moaned out loud. 

Louis pulled Harry a bit away from the spray again and got in front of him, pulling him into a hug to kiss his lips. Harry went willingly, soaking up any bit of attention Louis gave him like a flower blooming in sunlight. Louis pulled away and got more of the body wash into his hands, looking at Harry before he sank to his knees, leaving soapy hand-prints at Harry’s hips where he gripped on to brace himself so he didn’t just _drop_ and hurt his knees. 

Harry looked down at Louis in surprise, and Louis kept his eyes locked onto Harry’s as he started washing around Harry’s groin, rubbing soapy circles into his pubic hair and around his penis and testicles, not even trying to touch them because he probably was thinking about what had happened the last time he’d tried to touch Harry there. Harry focused his mind on how strange it was that it felt _good_ to have his _pubic hair_ being washed so thoroughly, and he was just wondering if Louis paid this much attention to his own hair, before remembering Louis shaved his away.

“Does it – is it, like, do you not like – erm, my hair?” He asked awkwardly, fighting the urge to cover up his hairy groin so Louis didn’t have to see it if he didn’t like it.

Louis looked confused. “Babe, I literally play with your hair _all the time_ ; I love it,” he said, frowning.

Harry blushed. “No, erm, my – down there, my _hair_. Like, around my penis and…and all that.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Louis said, coughing awkwardly. His fingers stilled, close to Harry’s hips, and he said, “No, babe, it – I don’t mind it at all.”

Harry steeled himself with a breath. “But do you, like – would you want me to shave, if you could – if you, like – ‘cause I don’t mind, or anything. I might – I’d probably cut myself or something, like it wouldn’t be a beautiful job or anythi-”

“ _Harry_ ,” Louis interrupted, sounding like he wanted to laugh but wouldn’t because it might hurt Harry’s feelings. “Hazza, your body is beautiful. From the hair on your head to the little tiny hairs down here on your toes.” He tickled at Harry’s feet gently for effect, making Harry giggle and squirm a little. “There’s nothing I’d change about your body – except, maybe I’d get to see it more,” he added with an over-exaggerated wink, making Harry blush. “There’s nothing wrong with you, sweetheart. Everything that’s different on my body from yours is just there because we’re different. Nobody in the world will ever have a body like mine – and nobody in the world will ever have a body like yours. I love _yours_. If you want to change things about it, go right ahead. But you don’t have to change anything to make me like your body better, because I already love it.”

Harry blushed and stared at his feet, playing with his fingers until Louis squeezed his hips and leaned up to kiss right next to Harry’s belly-button. 

“Love you,” he said with a sincere smile.

Harry smiled back and soothed his fingers through Louis’ wet, wispy hair. “Love you, too,” he responded, a smile threatening to break his entire face in half. 

Louis continued washing, getting between Harry’s thighs to make him blush and starting down his legs. “You can – you wanna wash your dick, baby?” Louis asked, going for casual and Harry knew it was because Louis didn’t want to make him feel weird or uncomfortable for not being able to handle having Louis’ hands on his penis.

Harry blushed but gathered some of the body wash resting on his legs and hips washed himself quickly and thoroughly, stretching his hands behind himself to wash the soap off them. Louis kissed his side and continued to wash down his calves, squeezing to massage the muscle deliciously. Harry braced a hand on the wall while Louis got his feet, laughing because his feet were extremely ticklish. 

Harry washed himself off and then Louis got him to lean back and rinse the conditioner from his hair, making his hair fall gracefully and straight under the water stream soft and thin. Once Louis was done easing the conditioner from Harry’s scalp, Louis squeezed the left-over water from Harry’s hair and let it drop, and Harry grinned because it was his turn. 

Louis was quiet and pliant while Harry washed his hair, and his hair was a bit thicker than Harry’s so it took more conditioner to really soak through it, but Harry’s too-big hands washed Louis’ body eagerly, Harry watching his hands as they glided over Louis’ sun-kissed skin, and he gasped and felt oddly smug when he saw scratch marks down Louis’ back. Harry wondered how Louis had felt when he’d seen the bruise forming on Harry’s left hip, where Louis had gripped him a little too tight last night, but he didn’t ask.

Louis was still when Harry sank to his knees, though he put his hands into Harry’s curls as he looked down at him with a soft, blissful expression. Harry decided he needed to put his hands on Louis more often, because this was a side to Louis Harry’d never seen and he loved it – Louis being soft and looking almost sleepy but not quite, his movements slow and looking a little shy but not insecure at all. 

Harry took his time around Louis’ groin, washing through Louis’ little trail of hair from his belly-button down until it ended abruptly, where Louis shaved himself. The hair around his groin was prickly, needing to be shaved again, but it tickled Harry’s fingers as he washed over it, making Louis shiver. 

Louis showed Harry how to pull back Louis’ foreskin to wash his penis thoroughly, and Harry watched on raptly until Louis let him try it on his own – the first time, he was too quick in it and made Louis hiss a little, so after a billion apologies, he tried again and got it right, washing his penis off but immediately making him go under the spray because Louis had just said it could get gross or painful if he didn’t wash and rinse thoroughly. 

Harry stayed on his knees and made Louis turn around so he could wash his bum, and Louis braced his hands on the shower wall and let Harry do as he wished. Harry blushed when he heard Louis groan quietly as he pressed a finger between his cheeks and washed, and when his finger passed over Louis’ hole, he pressed just a little, the way Louis had done to him, except his finger started sinking into Louis’ hole. Harry pulled his finger out before it went too far in, not wanting Louis to think he’d done it on purpose, but he rubbed the pad of his finger around it in a little circle, watching as Louis tensed and relaxed again with a quiet whine. 

Harry continued down Louis’ legs, washing them before standing up with a wince, stretching his own legs a bit while Louis started rinsing under the spray. 

All of a sudden, the water kicked on cold and Louis gave a yelp, making Harry jump. He laughed seconds later, when Louis was on the far side of the tub, away from the cold water, and reaching for the towel that hung right outside on the rack. 

“Louis, you still have conditioner in your hair,” Harry giggled, pulling Louis’ hand until he groaned and gave in, whining as Harry pulled him under the water. “Shh, I’ll be quick,” he soothed, scrubbing his fingers through Louis’ hair quickly until he was clean. 

They got out of the shower and both wrapped up in towels, and they laid on Harry’s bed and lazily made out, holding hands, until Harry’s stomach growled, making them both laugh. They both pulled boxers on, and Harry pulled on socks, because he hated how cold the tile of the kitchen was on his feet, and made their way downstairs, feeling like kings of the world, alone in Harry’s house and free to do whatever they wanted. 

It ended up that they didn’t even do much of anything – they ate cereal for breakfast and curled up in front of the TV, which was eventually just turned off because its noise was interrupting them making out again. Louis rolled over on top of Harry on the couch and made a game of licking every freckle (there weren’t many) on Harry’s body until Harry was laughing and tickling Louis just to make him stop, and when Louis pushed himself up on his hands and braced himself over Harry, hovering with an adoring smile on his face, Harry stopped and bit his lip, not wanting to believe how incredibly sexy his boyfriend was. 

Harry’s hand wormed its way into the front of Louis’ boxers, making him gasp and move away, and Harry was about to start feeling really bad until Louis pulled him up into a sitting position. Louis fitted himself against Harry’s chest, spreading his legs and hooking each one over one of Harry’s knees, giving Harry easy access to his penis and providing him with a perfect view of it. 

Harry was just about to reach under Louis’ boxers when Louis grabbed his wrist and licked his palm, making Harry moan quietly into Louis’ ear. He wrapped his hand around Louis’ penis and stroked him, sucking a dark purple bruise onto Louis’ neck and playing with his nipples as he went, later sinking down to play with Louis’ testicles until Louis started panting and whining, every other word a swear word or Harry’s name or ‘please’. Harry loved making Louis say please, found a power with it, and before Louis had even started saying he was close, Harry was fully hard against Louis’ back.

Harry was sucking at Louis’ earlobe when Louis came, tensing and crying out a swear word with a broken voice before he leaned heavily back against Harry, his head lolling at Harry’s shoulder while Harry sucked the come off his hand, running his fingers against Louis’ torso to collect any stray and moaning even as he blushed, still a little embarrassed (and maybe a tiny bit ashamed) of how much he _loved_ the taste of Louis’ come. 

He didn’t have much time to second-guess himself, though, because Louis scrambled off the couch and onto his knees, pulling at Harry’s neck to bend down and kiss him before he pushed Harry’s shoulders back up again. Harry settled against the couch, because Louis clearly wanted him to, and Louis pulled down his briefs and wasted no time in putting his mouth around Harry’s erection. 

Harry gasped, somehow not having been expecting it, and his eyes were wide when Louis looked up at him, his own blue eyes big and round as his mouth stretched around Harry’s penis. Harry said more than Louis, but most of it was much quieter than Louis had been. Louis took almost all of Harry’s penis, and Harry almost sobbed because it felt so incredible – Louis’ hot, wet mouth around his penis, his tongue pushing up against Harry’s length in waves as his throat constricted around him on and off, providing a friction and an intense heat.

Harry ran a hand through Louis’ hair, tugging on it because he knew it made Louis moan, and gasping when exactly that happened, vibrating around Harry’s penis. Louis took all of Harry, then, and Harry’s eyes squeezed shut – but then he felt Louis’ tongue lapping at his testicles _while his penis was still in Louis’ mouth_ , and Harry lost it, coming straight down Louis’ throat with only a wordless gasp as warning as his body curled around Louis’ head, nails scratching down Louis’ back even more. 

Louis stayed there, kissing down Harry’s thighs, and Harry trailed his fingers across the marks up his back until Louis hissed a bit because it hurt. Louis tilted his head up, then, and kissed Harry sweetly, letting Harry lick into his mouth. Louis helped Harry push his briefs back up and crawled back up onto the couch, letting the fan make their sweat-sticky bodies shiver until Harry whined a little, and Louis sat up to pull the blanket that sat on the other couch over them. 

They turned the telly back on and watched it, idly kissing and running fingers across each other’s skin. Harry made lunch and they ate at the table, playing footsie and grinning and blushing like children, and Harry made himself shatter the illusion by insisting they at least do _some_ schoolwork, so Louis worked on an English project and Harry did extra credit in algebra because he had all his homework done already. (He didn’t really need the extra credit, but Louis wouldn’t let him help on his English project and it would’ve been hypocritical to make Louis do schoolwork and not do any himself.)

Around 2:30, they took another shower (which ended with Harry groaning because he had to go find towels as they’d started a water fight and soaked the floor) and got ready for football, dressing together slowly because they kept getting distracted, kissing every five seconds. The entire day had left Harry feeling drunk with happiness and affection, and he found himself in his bathroom, staring at his reflection as Louis went through their bags, making sure they had everything before they left. 

Harry took in how shiny and curly his hair looked, from Louis’ washing it earlier and leaving the conditioner in longer. He noticed the way his skin was flushed, just a little, and how his eyes were brighter than he’d ever seen, except for whenever he finished crying. Harry noticed how swollen and dark his lips looked, and how his neck was littered in barely-there blotches where Louis had sucked hard or sucked just a little bit for a long time. There was a dark bruise just under his collarbone, barely peeking out of the collar of Harry’s practice shirt. As Harry watched his reflection, he had a moment of clarity, like, _maybe this is how Louis sees me every day_. He thought maybe, if that were true – if Louis saw Harry the way he looked in his reflection right then – then he could see how Louis would think him beautiful. Shyly, and only to himself would he ever dare say it, Harry thought maybe he was beautiful, rather than just, like, there, or average, like he’d always thought. If Harry could look this way forever, he could always feel beautiful.

“Harry, are you ready?”

Harry snapped out of his thoughts, blushing a little, when he heard Louis’ holler from downstairs. “I’m coming!” he called out, and flipped off the light, hurrying down the stairs so they wouldn’t be late for practice.

\---

“Ah, the young lovers,” Stan greeted as they strolled into the locker room. Harry blushed. “Haven’t seen you two all _day_! Surely I just missed you. Both. At lunch. In the halls. In class.”

“Alright, alright!” Louis laughed, raising his hands in forfeit. “We skipped, okay?” 

Stan raised an eyebrow and gave a sound of mock-disapproval, and his eyes zeroed in on Louis’ neck. “ _Holy shit_ , Harry!” He said, starting to laugh. 

Harry wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and rubbed it awkwardly, blushing, but the movement caused his collar to droop down, revealing the bruise on his chest, which only served to make Stan laugh more.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Louis said, amusement coloring his tone along with finality. Stan kept laughing, but nodded, letting the laughter die out naturally, and Harry didn’t really mind so long as it ended eventually.

Practice went well. Mostly. Harry got distracted when Louis was put on Skins (and Louis _totally_ used it against him), and Coach ended up yelling at Harry twice until Harry got it through his thick skull that Louis was his opponent at that time. After that, practice went well, and it wasn’t until it was over that Harry let himself truly appreciate Louis shirtless, all sweaty and panting, hair sticking to his forehead as he dumped water over himself in the pleasantly-warm weather of March.  
Harry quickly looked away.

They unanimously decided to shower on opposite ends of the room after practice since they both had work soon _and_ teammates in the locker room, and Louis sped to drop Harry off at the bakery, kissing him until Harry was gasping and promising to walk over to the shop as soon as he was off.

\---

Harry sat cuddled in with Louis on Louis’ porch swing as they watched the sun set, a blanket over them as they sipped hot tea in the cooling evening. 

“I wish we could have days like today forever,” Harry said wistfully, closing his eyes as Louis rested his head on top of Harry’s curls, sliding his free hand up and down Harry’s thigh in motion with the swing. 

Louis hummed in agreement. “’S perfect, wasn’t it?” He mused into Harry’s curls.

Harry nodded. “Could stay like this forever. ‘S like an Aerosmith-worthy moment,” he added with a giggle.

“What?” Louis asked, picking his head up from Harry’s with a laugh. “Like Steven Tyler?”

“You know, that song, the – ‘ _don’t wanna cloooose my eyyyyes, don’t wanna faaaall asleeep_ ’ one?” Harry asked, tilting his head back to see Louis and make sure he understood. 

Louis smiled then, and laughed. “I thought you were comparing us to crazy rock stars who have secret children with our band members’ spouses,” he teased, and yelped when Harry smacked his chest playfully for ruining their moment. 

They stayed quiet, and Harry didn’t even bother to stop himself drifting to sleep. Later, when Louis woke him up to bring him inside, Harry snuggled into the embrace of Louis, and when he drifted back off, he was certain the last thing he heard was Louis singing, “ _I don’t wanna miss a thing_ ”.


	34. Part 33.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, basically, this is completely different than ANY part of 'Touch', so, like. Don't hate me? K. Thanks.  
>  **Also, you are going to read NEW things, don't worry - you haven't missed anything in previous chapters.**  
>  -Kotabear24  
> .xx

Anne sighed happily as she hopped into her car, tossing her purse into the passenger seat and starting it up, glancing at her clock before turning the music on softly. She smiled when she heard the beginning chords of her very favorite song, and as she buckled up, she was amazed at how wonderful of a day it had been. 

Her boyfriend and her son had gotten along well at dinner last night. Her son had joked around about him afterward. Her boyfriend had stayed up late on the phone with her, talking about how happy he was to have broken such ground with Harry, and that he knew Harry still had a long way to go and was simply happy to have gotten where they were. Her son’s wonderful boyfriend had looked almost completely relaxed at dinner last night, his guard only coming up a few times when Harry would take a deep breath or stutter a bit more than normal, or when he’d talk with a bit of speed. Even so, Louis had only stroked Harry’s hand, or his back, or murmured quietly to him, and that’s all it had taken for Harry to calm down, nodding and taking a deep breath, throwing a shaky, happy smile over to him before addressing Robin again. 

She had woken up well-rested, despite having stayed up all hours into the night with Robin over the phone. She hadn’t had to rush getting ready, and her son and his boyfriend were sleeping peacefully, cuddled up under the covers and holding each other when she’d gone to check on them quietly. There had been next-to-no traffic on the way to work, her favorite barista had been in when she’d stopped for her morning coffee, and wonderful music had been playing on the radio all day. She was wearing her favorite work skirt and blouse, had gotten loads of compliments (and one certain lewd wink/suggestion combination from Angela in Q.A. which had Anne blushing), and work had been great so far.

But right now, Anne was happy because she had a lunch date with one certain gorgeous man who looked at her like she hung the moon and had carelessly sprinkled stars in the sky while she was at it.

Anne was pretty sure she’d never get used to the way Robin looked at her. 

Anne had never known, back when she was with Harry’s father, that she was with the wrong man. She took a pregnancy test a few months into their relationship, and when it came back positive, she never had a moment of panic or horror or the typical _my life is over_ , though she was still in college and he was underemployed, they weren’t married, and they certainly weren’t trying for a child.

She had genuinely been in love with Des, too. And when she told him she was pregnant, he went out and bought her a ring, insisting they get married, and she had been so charmed and thrilled at the prospect of being married to this wonderful man, the father of her unborn child, and the first man to have ever stolen her heart. 

And then their child turned out to be a boy, and if Anne was so happy, over the moon, Des was over the entire solar system with happiness. They sat staring at their little boy, still growing inside of her, in the doctor’s office, talking excitedly about how good he’d be at sports, how rough and tough he’d be, what a good-looking lady killer he would end up being. Des talked so excitedly about having a boy to teach about cars and women and beer and sports.

When he was born, he was delicate. Soft. He cried and cried until Anne took him from the nurse’s arms, and he cried quietly. He only stopped crying when Des took him from her, sliding a massive hand over him and saying softly how beautiful and perfect he was, eyes getting a little misty as he thanked God for bringing his wife and son safely through the birth and delivery, and into his life forever. He went on and on over his son’s curly hair, his big blue eyes, his alabaster skin, blotchy and angrily flushed because he was hungry. 

They named him Harry Edward, after Harry T. Edwards, a spiritual healer whose prayer had guided Des throughout his entire life, as he had grown up in an orphanage run by a church. They prayed over their son, that he may be grateful and kind and smart and humble, and Anne’s parents had smiled and said it was a fine name, Harry Edward Styles.

But Harry hadn’t grown up interested in cars and sports. He’d grown up asking for dress-up clothes and dolls so he could learn to be a good daddy, like his own Daddy. While that in particular had warmed Des’ heart, Anne started noticing anger fueling most of his actions. It got him fired, when Harry was only a few years old, and Harry had seemed to be the only thing that brought him happiness. He was so sweet, so gentle with Harry, and whenever Anne would creep around a corner and see her husband and son together, she could almost make herself see the man she loved. They started fighting, and she would leave to her mother’s for a few hours or overnight, leaving Harry with Des because Harry could always calm him down with his big eyes, slowly turning from blue to bright green. 

Anne’s mum had always stayed out of it, letting Anne sit in her childhood room for hours and kiss her cheek when Anne went back home. The last time, though, she had gripped Anne’s arm hard and sat her down at their kitchen table, looking her dead in the eye and scolding her that Harry was old enough to remember, then, and that he would grow up wrong from witnessing such horrific scenes from his own parents. She’d demanded that Anne either divorce Des once and for all – take Harry and leave the man – or stick it out, mend things with her husband, and raise her son _right_.

That was the day everything had changed.

When she’d found Des, she screamed and hit him, only to have the breath knocked out of her when Des suddenly turned a different sort of violence on her. Using her perfectly manicured nails – his ‘I’m sorry’ to her after their previous fight – she’d scratched him viciously, running to the kitchen and grabbing the first thing she could wield to protect her and her son. Since she’d beat her husband with a cooking pan over the head – she’d nearly killed him, too, and if they hadn’t had such substantial evidence of what Des had been doing to her son, she’d’ve been imprisoned and Harry would’ve gone to her mother – Anne had only dated twice. The first man had been a lovely man, truly, but when he expressed wanting very badly to meet her son after only two months of seeing each other, she’d sent him away, changed her number, and put him on the blacklist on security at work so he couldn’t visit her anymore. She hadn’t even told him; she let him figure it out on his own. 

When Harry turned fifteen, Anne had gone to buy Harry his laptop for his birthday, and quite literally bumped into Robin in the electronics store. Robin had been speaking to the owner of the store quietly, something about a computer he’d designed himself and was now selling to the company’s chain merchandise with his own franchise to make more with varying settings and accessories. Listening to the man speak, Anne had kept her eyes trained on her shoes, still a bit gun-shy around men – especially those larger than her and in groups – and Robin had backed up, accidentally bumping into her and nearly knocking her into the next display of _very_ expensive electronics. 

Anne had left that day with more computer information than she could really process and a phone number she had kindly but firmly insisted she wouldn’t be using. Robin had said, “We’ll leave it to fate,” and walked her to the door, somehow sensing that she didn’t want him walking to her car with her. 

Anne had come back the next day, and the day after that, and Robin had been there and eventually just gave Anne his favorite design of his own computers, standing by, unoffended when she had three other employees scan the computer for any security issues or anything like secret cameras that could harm her or her son – though she hadn’t actually specified the gender of her child. (Keeping quiet about basically _everything_ about herself and her family was a badge of honor she wore bravely.) When she accepted the computer and paid for it (and now, over a year later, Anne had discovered that Robin hadn’t even charged her 20% of the computer’s actual cost), he gave her his business card, with his business line’s number in case she ran into any problems or had any questions. Anne had once again told him she didn’t see herself using it, but Robin had only repeated the same stupid thing about fate, and Anne had been charmed. 

A month later, after Harry had gotten used to the wonderful computer, he’d shyly thanked her and went on and on about it, talking about how it somehow tracked the things he liked and searched and helped him find other things faster. Anne had panicked a bit when Harry used words like _tracking_ and _programming into_ and _remembering_ , and she waited until he had gone over to his friend’s house before calling up the number from the business card, demanding to talk to Robin and yelling at him in a panic-induced rage for stalking her son and his computer. 

Where any other man Anne had met would get defensive and angry at such accusations or even simply being yelled at the way she had done, Robin stayed calm and suggested they meet up the next day – lunch or breakfast, a public place of her choice, whatever security measures she wanted to take (and, alright, maybe Anne was paranoid where men were involved) – to discuss and explain everything to her.

She insisted they meet at a coffee shop right across the street from a police station, stubbornly driving her own car and sliding a knife into her purse and a mini-can of mace onto her key-ring. She boldly showed Robin both, and Robin had only nodded, looking only barely ruffled by the knife. He’d pulled out his computer, talking about things like _cookies_ and _smart programs_ he’d put into the developing and design. He Google-searched everything he talked about on the computer, so Anne could see it for herself. She’d squinted at him and nodded, finishing her croissant and wiping her fingers and mouth with an air of finality before thanking him and apologizing for being rash and disrespectful and standing up to leave. 

Robin had called out to her, chasing her to the door. He slid his computer back into his bag and admitted that there was something about Anne that he liked, and that he would very much like to be her friend. She’d told him she would consider it, shaking his hand and walking to her car. 

Over the next few months, Anne had met up with Robin, and sometimes a mix of their co-workers, because Robin was _nice_ and it was nice to have a friend. It was always for breakfast or lunch, until one night when Harry had gone over to Niall’s for the night. Anne had gone to a greasy fast food restaurant to blow her carefully-crafted diet for the night, and Robin had been there, as well. He’d invited her to sit with him, so she did, and they ended up closing the restaurant down. Their previous lunches together had been getting a bit more loose and fun, but dinner that night was something else entirely, and Anne had let Robin walk her to her car that night. She’d chewed her lip before leaning forward to press a quick kiss to his cheek, backing away before he could so much as breathe on her as a reaction. She’d avoided him for a week, finally answering a call only to yell that she wasn’t someone he could call whenever he wanted to get off just because she’d finally shown an interest. Robin had paused, said, “Okay,” and had invited her to lunch with his old buddy from work. 

The next few months had taught Anne that Robin had also been married before, had a son who was fully grown and living in the Southwest working in a high office tower for a publication company, and was expecting a granddaughter soon, as well. She learned his favorite colors and lucky number and how he preferred his tea and how he’d gotten so smart (“I had a distinct disregard for authority, and learned that people would pay me to hide their internet history from their parents. All I wanted from there-on was to learn how to piss powerful people off. That spread to my boss, who treated all of us horribly. So I created a software and computer design template that was forty-three percent more efficient than his and sold it under my own trademarking franchise.”), and that he _loved_ dogs, but was allergic to them, so he settled for cats.

Anne wasn’t sure when, but over those months, she’d started letting her guard down, and she found herself falling for him a bit. It wasn’t until she had directly lied to Harry – something simple, that she was working the weekend when she really had plans to be with Robin – that she realized maybe she was in love with him, and wanted to bring him home.

Obviously, it had backfired horribly, and after struggling, and then a disastrous dinner showing that Harry clearly wasn’t ready, Anne had cried, heartbroken, as she ended things with Robin. Robin had held her, stroking the tears away from her face, and kissed her forehead, vowing to always love her and be there if Harry decided he was ready. Anne had smiled sadly, warning him not to get his hopes up, because there was so much he didn’t know about her son and their life before Robin, but Robin had only said quietly, “We’ll let fate decide that, alright?”

And now, Robin was opening Anne’s car door, pulling her out into a hug and a chaste kiss (because they were in public), allowing Anne to swoop down and snatch her purse so they could enjoy lunch. 

They were just about to order dessert when Anne’s phone went off, signaling she had a check-up in an hour. She regretfully told Robin so, and he’d shrugged happily, not minding in the least. They finished their incredibly lunch and Robin took care of the check, walked Anne to her car, and kissed her passionately up against it before opening her door, chuckling tenderly at her slightly dazed expression. “Hey,” he said before she pulled off. “I love you.”

Anne blushed, lowering her eyes because she still didn’t say the words often, no matter how true they were and no matter how much she loved hearing Robin say them. “You, too, Robin,” she said, biting her lip and giggling like a child. Robin watched her drive away, and Anne made the drive to the hospital, now newly eager for her check-up for more reasons than maintaining good health.

\---

“Anne Cox!”

Anne looked up from where a technician had her arm in a cuff to see Jay Tomlinson leaning against the door with a smirk on her face, looking so much like her son that Anne had to repress the urge to kiss her cheek. “Hi, Jay!” She smiled instead, nodding in thanks as the technician released her arm. 

Jay walked into the room, closing the door and sitting down in the chair across from Anne. “I’m so glad you’re here. We really should talk more than just when I’m sticking a cold stethoscope down your shirt.”

Anne laughed, blushing as she tucked hair behind her ear. “Definitely,” she started agreeing, but Jay cut her off in an uncharacteristic show of girlish excitement, and it struck Anne as funny that their sons didn’t realize they were actually friends, that they never got to spend time together because they were both busy – Jay with her career and children, and Anne with her career, child, and boyfriend.

“First off: how _great_ are our boys?!” She asked, reaching out to touch Anne’s knee briefly. “You’ve just – oh, Harry’s such a joy to have around the house. He’s so adorable with the girls, they all love him so much. Lottie’s got the sweetest crush on him; I won’t be surprised if she and Louis duke it out soon over him! And Anne, he’s so polite, you’ve done so well. He’s got Louis doing his homework, too; he’s _wonderful_!”

Anne smiled, her heart swelling and bursting with pride. “Thank you,” she said, blushing, “but it’s really just _Harry_ ; he’s just such a wonderful boy. But so is Louis, Jay, he’s so sweet with my Harry. You – I’m not sure how much you know of Harry, but he’s such a sensitive thing and Louis is so delicate with him and he’s so patient. It’s so wonderful to peek in on them and see them wrapped around each other, fast asleep.”

Jay cut her off, breathing a sigh of relief. “Oh, I’m so glad to hear you say that; I was so afraid you’d be upset with me for letting Louis stay the night all the time, or think me a bad mother – but Louis just _hates_ being away from Harry, especially lately…” She sighed. “There’s so much going on at home; it’s just not good for Louis’ heart, I think,” she admitted, her expression dropping a little. 

Anne nudged one of her dearest friends with her shoe. “Tell me,” she suggested. “Maybe I can help?”

Jay shook her head, though. “No, it’s nothing, really, you can do. It’s – me and Mark, and Louis’ always been such a protective boy over me.” She took a deep breath. “Mark filed for divorce,” she said heavily, and Anne gasped. 

“He _didn’t_ ,” she said, shocked beyond words. Though it wasn’t her place – she knew Jay and Mark’s marriage was no longer one of love, but rather security for Jay’s children, though Jay had never expressly told her – she asked a little uncertainly, “Is it – is it better, now?”

Jay regarded her carefully before sighing, rubbing her thighs uncomfortably. “Yes and no? I don’t really know yet, to be honest. The girls don’t know yet, but it’s kind of been hard already.”

Anne grimaced sadly for her friend. “Louis found out, then?” She assumed.

Jay nodded, massaging her temple. “Honestly, as much as he hates Mark, I thought he’d be happy,” she said sheepishly, and Anne nodded sympathetically. “But he was really upset when I told him – just left right in the middle of it, and went over to see Harry.” She sighed, and Anne couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty for her house being the place Louis had come to as an escape from her friend. “He was much better when he came back, but…I don’t know. He’s worried. About me, the girls, our money…”

“That’s a lot to worry about for a senior in high school,” Anne voiced Jay’s thoughts softly. 

Jay nodded, looking up with tears in her eyes. She took a shuddery breath and laughed at herself, wiping her eyes. “It’s not at all what I always dreamed his last year at home would be like,” she said. “He’s on about moving our money to different banks, taking care of the girls, setting up afterschool programs so they don’t have to have a babysitter. I’m pretty sure he’d rather die than them have a babysitter,” she said dryly. 

Anne laughed softly, nodding because she could see that. “He’s a good caretaker,” she agreed.

Jay nodded, biting her lip. “It’s – I think Louis might have heard a conversation between Mark and I,” she confessed.

Anne’s brows lowered. “What could he have heard that would make a difference?” She asked, careful to keep her tone and face diplomatic and open, because Jay looked extremely self-conscious.

She blushed. “I – you’ll probably judge me for it, but… Well. Mark – he wants to divorce because – because he wants to start over. Me and him, and the girls, once Louis’ off, away at school. I don’t want to; I don’t love him, and I want to be able to live my own life. …But I have kids to worry about, and even though he’ll be off at school, I _do_ have to take into account the way Louis _feels_ about him. I know he’s the girls’ dad, but is he, really? I just – he’s always gone; they rarely get to see him, and with the way they’re being raised right now, I think it’d be easier to convince them that Louis’ their father than Mark! I just – and yet…”

“And yet, you’re still considering it,” Anne said softly, clucking sorrowfully when Jay nodded tightly. “Sweetheart, that’s nothing – that’s not something you should feel ashamed of. He’s not _harming_ you guys; he’s not _hurting_ you. Maybe he’ll never win husband- or father-of-the-year award, but he does support you guys, even if it’s mostly only financially. I understand why you’d consider it; I really do. …But, as a mummy who’s – you know, when Harry was, erm, younger, he had a really – _traumatic_ experience. …And I learned, like, so much, going with him to doctors’ offices and therapists and all of that… and one of the things that stuck with me – probably the second-biggest reason I don’t date often at all – is that you can damage your child _permanently_ just be being in an unhappy marriage. Even one without abuse or constant tension – because your kids will learn that, and call it love, because ‘ _all mummies and daddies love each other_ ’. You – you have to strive to be the model of the relationship you’d want them to have with their future spouse, Jay. Don’t you _want_ your girls’ husbands to win husbands-of-the-year awards? If so, I don’t – it’s not my place, Jay, it really isn’t, but – I don’t think you should start over. Not with Mark.”

Jay nodded, tearing up a bit and looking away to compose herself, and Anne took a shaky breath, suppressing all the horrific appointments she’d had with child therapists and doctors all those years ago with Harry.

“You’re right,” Jay said, dabbing at her eyes a bit. “And plus,” she said, laughing, “Louis would be _livid_ if I accepted. He’d just go mad; he’s so protective of me and the girls. He’s such a good son.”

“Good brother, too. Very protective of what’s his.” 

Jay smiled fondly, nodding along as she fully composed herself and switched topics. “He’s not the only one who protects what’s his,” she said with some amusement, making Anne blush. “I hear you’ve brought a man home. Louis says he seems like a solid guy?”

Anne laughed a bit, oddly happy that Louis liked him. “He is, he is. Erm, his name’s Robin? Twist, erm. He works with computers, he’s dead smart. We’ve – sort of been seeing each other for a long time, kind of, I suppose, but it’s just recently, erm, been, like…known.”

“How’s Harry taking it?” Jay asked, voice going soft in a way that made Anne wonder just how much Jay knew about Harry.

“He’s – doing better. At first he was…really upset, you know. Erm. Stayed over at yours quite a bit for a while,” she laughed self-consciously. “I wasn’t – I didn’t know how to make anything better, so I just – kind of…let Louis do it. He did a better job at it than I could’ve, honestly. You’d be so proud, though, the way he got Harry to relax and _talk to me_ about it all. Eventually, you know. But now we’re – yeah, we’re, like, doing a lot better, honestly. They, erm – after the game last night, they came to dinner with me and Robin – Robin’s wanted to see Harry play for a while, now, as I’ve bragged so much about him,” she laughed. “I was – at first I was kind of, like, worried, about it, but Harry actually – Harry invited him.”

And she _had_ been worried when Robin started tentatively hinting that he’d like to see Harry play. Robin was always careful expressing any kind of interest in Harry; Anne had always been sharp and quick to protect Harry from anything – even her boyfriend. And now, though Anne loved Robin and couldn’t ever imagine him hurting Harry – well, she’d never have imagined Des would, either.

So it was solely because Harry had invited him that Anne allowed Robin to come watch, and Robin had behaved _wonderfully_ , almost – but not quite – making Anne feel a little ridiculous for having been so paranoid. He’d watched the game, and had only kept eyes on Harry when Harry was involved in the plays. He’d cheered for Harry _and_ Louis, had sworn under his breath when Harry and Louis weren’t communicating well and Louis had gotten in Harry’s face in the middle of the pitch. He was like any other football fan, and Anne was so relieved she kissed him right there in the stands.

“But it went well?” Jay asked hopefully. 

Anne grinned, euphoria and surprise and relief coursing through her as she nodded ecstatically. “Oh, Jay, it was _wonderful_ ,” she gushed. “Harry tried so hard, he was so – he just made an effort and as proud as I was of him, I think Louis might have even beaten me, honestly. He dragged Harry up to bed and I think it was, like – usually, when I go in and check on them, it’s Louis wrapped around Harry, you know. Holding him like he’s afraid to let go, or Harry might miss him in his sleep, or something. But last night, he let Harry do the holding. Louis was like his little teddy bear last night. It was so lovely, honestly. Just really lovely.”

Anne quieted, though she was still smiling, and she wanted to thump herself for bringing them sleeping together up, hoping they didn’t have to have the sex talk, or anything. 

But Jay only asked, “Should we talk about them sleeping together? You know, as good parents, and all that?” She wrinkled her nose, though, and Anne laughed. 

“Well, you don’t have to worry about Harry. He’s – erm – very traditional. Lou’s his first boyfriend, you know, and last we talked about it, they hadn’t really done much, erm…sexually.”

Jay nodded, raising her hands in surrender. “No, I completely agree,” she nodded. “I just wanted to make sure it was okay with you that they share the bed when they’re over at mine, and stuff. I think it would break their hearts if I started making Louis pull out the guest mattress!” 

Anne laughed. “They’d just end up sleeping on the floor; who are you kidding?!” She said, making Jay laugh.


	35. Part 34.

Louis woke up to obnoxious ringing. Groaning, he slammed his fist down on Harry’s alarm clock, knocking it off the night stand, and then picked up his phone when he realized it wasn’t the alarm clock, ripping it off the charger while Harry snuffled and generally sounded _very_ dissatisfied with his life at the present time.

Louis unlocked his phone and answered it blindly. “Hello?” He grunted.

“ _Louis – were you asleep_?”

Louis’ eyes opened to Liam’s voice and he squinted in the slivers of light beaming in through a gap in Harry’s curtains. Damned Sun. “I – Liam, why are you calling me at seven-thirty in the morning?” 

With an almighty groan, Harry rolled over. “What?” He asked, voice deep and raspy. Louis looked over at him and smiled sleepily, leaning down to kiss his forehead. 

“Go back to sleep; we don’t have to be up yet,” he whispered.

“… _came up to me in the parking lot; I thought I was gonna have to punch him, the expression on his face at first_ ,” Liam was saying.

Louis’ eyebrows raised; Liam may have been a boxer, but he certainly wasn’t violent, from what Louis knew of him. “Wait, who?” He asked.

Liam sighed. “ _Keep up, honestly_ ,” he mumbled. “ _He came up to us and said he couldn’t find you._ Zayn _did. He’s looking for you_.”

Louis blew out an irritated puff of air as he stared at the ceiling, letting Harry rearrange himself, curling into him. As Louis lifted his arm so Harry’s head could rest on his chest, Louis answered coolly, “Yeah, I know. I just haven’t decided what I’m supposed to do about him yet. …Look, why’d you _call_ me?” He didn’t mean to be rude, but he was tired and it was seven-thirty and he didn’t need to be at school until _ten_ -thirty.

Harry grunted curiously, tilting his head up and fluttering his eyelashes, struggling to open his tired eyes. Louis scrunched up his nose and made ‘shhh’ lips at him, and Harry nodded like an obedient child, resting his head again. 

“ _He just seemed worried, or something; it didn’t seem right_ ,” Liam answered. Louis furrowed his brows. Liam was typically a good reader, but Zayn was usually somewhat-stoic kind of guy when it came to people he didn’t know super-well.

“…Alright. I’ll – I’ll shoot him a text, or something,” Louis vowed, sighing. “Talk to you later.” 

Louis hung up and dropped his phone back to the nightstand, groaning quietly in sad commemoration of his lost sleep. Harry laughed through puffs of air through his nose and buried it in Louis’ chest, pressing a kiss there while he was at it. Louis scratched absently at Harry’s scalp.

“Whazzat about?” Harry mumbled into Louis’ skin.

“Nothing, sweetheart; go back to sleep. I’ll wake you up in time,” he vowed, feeling a flimsy shot of adrenaline float lazily through him, too tired to be truly excited. 

But Harry’s eyes opened and he smiled, tilting his head back to look up at him. The leg Harry had wrapped around Louis’ bent up, pulling them closer together while Harry kissed Louis’ collar bone. “We have a _tournament_ this weekend,” Harry said like he’d just remembered.

Louis swallowed. How Harry had made a football schedule sound sexy, Louis’d never know, but it was supremely unfair. “That we do,” he said, tilting his head to the side as Harry started nosing up his neck. 

“And we have…” Harry glanced down at the clock on the floor, “about three hours before we need to be up at the school.” 

Louis swallowed as Harry’s breath started hitting his neck a little bit faster, Harry’s body sliding against Louis’ as he slid himself up to get level with Louis from his curled-up position. “That’s also true,” Louis said, smiling as he looked over at Harry, who was pressing tiny little kisses to the little knob on the hinge of his jaw. “Hmm,” Louis mock-mused with a smirk. “What could we do with _three hours_ , I wonder?”

Harry paused and pulled back a little, blushing, like Louis had caught him in an act.

A little amused and a lot fond, Louis brushed Harry’s curls out of his eyes. “What?” He asked gently. 

Harry scrunched his face up – _embarrassed_ , Louis decided – and pushed himself up on his elbow, lying on his side next to Louis as he fidgeted with his fingers. “It’s just – erm.” Harry turned his face away to cough into his bicep before turning back, blushing like he was embarrassed for coughing. “I had thought of, like. About…” Harry took a deep breath, and Louis slid his thumb to the inside of Harry’s wrist, stroking just softly, enough that Harry could be comforted but not enough to be distracting. Finally, Harry asked, “So, like, I don’t want to – to, like, _ruin_ , like, a good moment, or whatever, but…I just – I was wondering something?” He paused, then, and looked up into Louis’ eyes hesitantly. “You, erm. You said that you – when I asked, like, what the – the most you’ve, like, _done_ with – with a guy, remember?” Louis nodded, and Harry took a shuddery breath before he chewed his lip. “Well, you had – you had said, like, that you’d – the worst was, erm, rimming?” Louis stroked Harry’s wrist again, wondering where he was taking this, and Harry finally confessed, “I’ve been – like, it won’t – it won’t go out of my head.”

Louis slid his arm from Harry’s wrist and went up Harry’s arm, squeezing his shoulder comfortingly, and back down. “What about it, sweetheart?” He asked, making Harry look to the mattress between them. “You knew I’d been with other guys before we were even technically _friends_ ; what’s bothering you about it?” 

Harry scrunched his face up briefly again and traced tiny little circles into Louis’ chest. “It’s just – I was, erm. Like. I was, wondering, you know…erm. A few things. If it doesn’t – like, if it wouldn’t, like, upset you, or something. Or offend you, or – I dunno.”

Louis smiled softly, endeared by his boyfriend’s sweet nerves, and said, “You know you can ask me anything, Hazza. I don’t mind.”

Harry nodded quickly, like he didn’t want Louis doubting that he knew, and swallowed. “I, erm. Like, how many? People, I mean. And did you – like did you…do the – erm. The…like, were you the _rim_ , or the – _tongue_?”

Louis sucked his lips into his mouth, pressing them together so he didn’t laugh. He squeezed his eyes shut for a second as he tried to fight the laughter – the _rim or the tongue, honestly_ – and when he opened them back up, Harry looked like a scolded child.

“I didn’t mean to – it’s not my business, it’s fine,” he said quickly and quietly, averting his eyes.

Louis frowned and pulled Harry’s chin up with his fingers, making eye contact. “Sweetheart, it is _absolutely_ your business where my body has been, especially if you want to be intimate with me. You have every right to ask me that, and every right to be upset if I didn’t want to tell you. Okay? I wasn’t upset, I promise. I’ll let you know if you offend me,” he added with a wry laugh, and Harry laughed, a little embarrassed. 

Louis shifted and leaned up to kiss Harry’s forehead, smiling at the way Harry’s eyes closed happily at the affection before opening slowly, peering down at him again. Louis smiled, Harry smiling back, and Louis said, “I’ve rimmed one guy. I’ve been rimmed twice.” He shrugged, showing Harry how supremely unimpressed he was. “Nothing special.”

Harry looked a little disappointed, though, and said, “Oh…so it wasn’t, like. It didn’t _feel_ good, or something?”

A bit puzzled, Louis said, “Well, it didn’t feel _bad_ , or anything… I mean – no, it was definitely incredible, like. I definitely get why girls like guys to go down there and stuff. I just meant the _guys_ weren’t anything special.”

Harry swallowed and nodded, eyes a little wide like they always were whenever Louis talked about something Harry didn’t know about. “So you – what was it like? I mean, like…rimming a guy. What was that – did it taste weird? ‘Cause it’s, like – you know,” he blushed. “It’s – I mean, it’s your _bum_ , and you – isn’t it just kind of…not...good-tasting?”

Louis smiled, unable to resist a tiny little chuckle, but answered, brushing up and down Harry’s arm. “Well, your dick doesn’t exactly taste like piss, but that’s where urine comes from, right?” 

“ _I wouldn’t know; you haven’t let me try it_ ,” Harry grumbled before his face morphed into a bit of a sheepish grin. “Sorry,” he said, a little abashed. “Anyways,” he prompted quickly.

Louis laughed at Harry’s sudden, sulky cheek, pinching his arm with a laugh before he continued. “Well, it doesn’t. And, like, it’s not like it was right after he’d just dropped a brick, or anything.” Louis and Harry both giggled – poop is funny at any age, Louis was sure – and Harry cringed despite his laughter, making Louis continue his explanation. “It’s kind of – like, alright, you know the other day when we stayed home and I sucked you off? And then you got me off, and your mouth was basically on my crotch?” Harry blushed furiously, but nodded. “Well, it’s kind of like that, but, like – a little more… _bitter_ , I guess? I’m not really sure how to describe it. Either way, it doesn’t – it doesn’t taste like _that_. And there’s, like…there’s definitely a reason why people like it,” he added with a little awkward blush of his own.

Harry’s eyes widened a little bit and he pushed himself up a bit more on his elbow, where he was still leaning over Louis. “Is it really that good?” He asked, cheeks still pink.

Louis nodded. “Better than blowjobs.” 

Harry’s eyes darkened nearly on the spot.

Louis watched quietly as Harry started to squirm just a bit, trying to be subtle (and failing horribly), and Harry sucked his lower lip into his mouth, fighting to keep breathing evenly. 

Finally though, Harry leaned down and buried his face into Louis’ neck, letting out a whimper and shuffling his hips forward to rub off on Louis’ leg. The whimper had gone straight to Louis’ cock, and he bit his lip, wondering what was going on in Harry’s head.

“Hazza,” Louis murmured, scratching at Harry’s curls, but Harry just breathed heavily, panting into Louis’ collarbone and leaving his skin hot and a little wet. He wasn’t really _grinding_ against Louis’ leg, but he pressed his hardened cock against Louis’ thigh and just pressed, giving it some relief that way. 

“Wait, though,” Harry nearly gasped, moving back to look Louis in the eye. “But I have to – wait, is it – giving it, like, doing the – the, erm, the rimming. Was that – what was it, I mean, I know it’s not the – like, taste, or whatever, but what’s it – what’s it _like?”_

Harry gripped at Louis’ shoulder tightly, eyes a little wild as he breathed, clearly turned on to the point of near-death. 

Louis looked directly into his eyes and said lowly and clear, “It makes you feel so powerful, Harry. You just lick their little arsehole and you just watch as they fall apart, squirming and their back arching off the bed so bad it looks like you’ve broken them in half. They sweat and they moan – well, sometimes. Sometimes they just go silent, their mouth opening like they wanna say something but can’t.” Harry’s breath hitched. “It’s so hot, so sexy, Hazza. Knowing you did that to them, just from loving on them. It’s so sexy, rimming someone.” 

Harry was fully hard, now, breathing hard and desperately moving closer to Louis, the untamed look in his eyes wide and dark like he was bewildered but too turned on to care. 

“Look, Hazza,” Louis said, pressing his hips forward to let Harry feel his hard cock against his leg. “Feel what happened? Just from talking about it, look what it did to me.” 

Harry whimpered again. 

Louis shifted, pushing Harry down on his back softly, rolling onto his side so he was hovering a little over Harry. Harry went willingly, breathing heavy and swallowing tightly. “You, too, babe?” Louis asked softly when Harry’s hips rolled into Louis’ thigh, pressing his hard-on against Louis. 

Harry swallowed, temporarily cutting off the sound of his heavy breaths, but quickly continued his almost-panting, barely blinking as he nodded desperately. “L-Lou, could you – would you…will you…do that? To me? 

Louis closed his eyes and leaned down, giving Harry a sweet kiss – just letting Harry’s puffy lips move against his own. But Harry opened up beneath Louis like a flower in spring, breathing happily as he lazily wrapped his arms around Louis’ neck and let his mouth slide open a bit more with each kiss until finally, Louis _needed_ to taste his mouth – morning breath be damned. 

Louis licked into Harry’s mouth and sighed happily, because this was _Harry_ : open, honest, eager – always eager – and loving, and even the sour taste of sleep mixed with the bit of (disgusting) asparagus Harry’d had for dinner last night couldn’t make Louis not love the way Harry responded so naturally and beautifully to him. Harry blossomed under Louis’ touch, yes – but he kind of _glowed_ under Louis’ mouth. 

It really made Louis want to take Harry apart, bit by little bit. 

“Lou, Lou, can you? Will you, please?” Harry asked, pushing at Louis’ chest just a bit when they needed to breathe. 

“Y-yeah, baby, I’ll eat you out,” Louis breathed a little heavily. 

Harry blushed and screwed up his face. “Don’t – don’t call it that, it sounds – _weird_ , or something,” he said half-heartedly, in that way Louis knew he really meant it but didn’t want to come across rude or bossy. 

So Louis kissed Harry again, softly this time, and kept it short. “Okay,” he said quietly, whispering into Harry’s lips. “How about I ‘go down on you’, then?” He suggested, trying not to smirk but knowing the wickedness was probably glinting in his own eyes. 

Harry blushed and giggled, but nodded, breathing out an easy ‘okay’, so Louis gave him another smooch, kissing down his neck quickly and being briefly glad Harry was a thorough night-showerer. 

Harry sighed contentedly when Louis kissed down his chest, and he spread his fingers out when Louis’ slid in search of them, letting Louis grab his hands and stretch his arms comfortably. Harry’s legs shifted a bit more open as Louis licked and sucked at his nipples just a bit, and then he shrieked and giggled, letting go of Louis’ hands and flailing when Louis playfully started munching on Harry’s stomach and ribcage, making obnoxious chomping sounds like Cookie Monster, or something. 

“Stop! Stop, Louis!” Harry laughed, fighting for his breath as he wrapped his legs around Louis’ back, and Louis was so far down Harry’s torso that Harry’s crossed legs meant his feet rested on Louis’ shoulder blades awkwardly, but neither of them cared. 

Louis stopped, grinning and laughing cheekily before he craned up, making kissy-lips at Harry until Harry pushed himself up so they could reach, kissing ridiculously until Louis pulled back. He gave Harry three more little kitten-kisses to his lips before he moved back down to Harry’s stomach again, and Harry flopped back and uncrossed his legs around Louis, sighing and finding where Louis’ hands were laid casually on the sheets. With one hand, Harry pushed off his blanket to the floor, tracing the back of Louis’ hand with the other. 

Louis pressed and sucked little kisses along the skin above Harry’s waistline, looking up at Harry as he hooked fingers into the elastic. “You ready, babe?” He asked, and Harry bit his lip, but he nodded. Louis pulled them down slowly, not even looking down at Harry’s hardened cock (though it was hard to resist) to give Harry more of a chance to stop him without feeling stupid like Louis knew Harry would. 

Harry didn’t stop him, though. He pushed his hips up off the bed to help Louis remove his briefs, picking up his feet to let Louis pull them off all the way and giggling when he watched Louis sling-shot them across the room. 

Louis shifted back between Harry’s bent and spread knees, wrapping his arms under Harry’s thighs and letting his hands rest on Harry’s belly. He smiled when he felt Harry’s hands cover his, resting his cheek against the inside of Harry’s thigh as he looked up. “You’re sure?” He checked again. “It’s a really intense feeling, sweetheart. I could just suck you off; I really don’t mind,” he offered, knowing Harry would appreciate the alternative choice as an escape if he needed it. 

“No, I –”Harry paused and scratched gently over Louis’ fingers. “Did you…do you not want to?” He asked, rushing to add, “It’s fine, like, if you don’t – really; I don’t even mind. Honest." 

But Louis wasn’t having any of it, and he pressed a kiss to the inside of Harry’s thigh that made his quad muscle clench. “No, sweetheart; I want to,” he assured Harry honestly. “I was just making sure." 

Harry bit his lip, thinking on it. “How about…if – can you – you can, like, go…erm. Go…down, or whatever, and if I – if I don’t like it, or if it’s – too much or something, I can – d’you think you could, erm…” 

“I could still suck you off if you don’t like it, baby,” Louis offered. “Or, if you just wanted to cuddle instead. You _know_ I love cuddling you,” he added. He tried to smirk up at Harry, but all he managed was a soft, fond grin, and he wondered briefly when he turned into such a sap before decided he didn’t really care much, because Harry smiled in response. 

“Okay,” he said happily, nodding. “I – yeah, we can – we’ll figure it out, like, if I – don’t like it. …Thank you,” he said genuinely. 

Louis smiled, lifting up his fingers to slide them between Harry’s. “Just say the word, okay? Even if you just need me to slow down a bit; I can do that.” 

Harry nodded, and Louis started kissing up and down his thighs, leaving Harry to squirm and his cock, which had softened just the tiniest bit in the hesitant conversation, to harden up even more. Louis licked up along the bottom of it, tilting his head a bit sideways to suck just a tiny bit on kisses up along the vein, making Harry gasp. 

“I’m gonna go down, now,” Louis warned, looking up at Harry, who instantly snapped his head down from where he was staring at the ceiling. Louis kept his eyes wide open, sliding his fingers from Harry’s, down his stomach and around the backs of Harry’s thighs. “Love you,” he added a little quieter when he let his thumbs slowly spread Harry’s cheeks a little. 

Harry bit his lip nervously, his hips shying away from Harry’s hands on his bum, but Louis knew it was a natural reaction to the slightly taboo feeling, the first few times, so he decided he’d keep going and just watch for discomfort, rather than nerves from Harry. Harry would speak up; Louis trusted him to. 

Keeping the intense eye contact, Louis let his tongue press against Harry’s balls, lapping at them gently a few times, letting Harry get used to feeling his hands down there a bit longer. Louis wasn’t much of a balls-person, but Harry clearly loved the feeling, if the way his breath hitched was any indicator, so he fixed his lips around one, sucking gently, and then the other, while Harry’s eyes closed shut tightly for a second. 

Louis let go and moved his mouth down a bit, letting his tongue glide along Harry’s perineum. Harry gasped a little, and shifted up, leaning back on his elbows to watch Louis’ tongue, so Louis sucked kisses into the junction of Harry’s thighs as well, spreading the area of his attentions so Harry could enjoy it more. 

Harry’s bum was finally less tense underneath Louis’ fingers, so Louis kissed Harry’s thigh and gave him a significant look before he leaned in and let his tongue flit across Harry’s hole quickly, sweeping fast the first time. Harry tensed up immediately, but Louis wasn’t sure if it was good or bad, so he kept an eye on Harry’s face and flicked his tongue against Harry’s hole a few times. 

Harry fell, collapsing back against the pillows, and his hips jutted up as the breath whooshed out of him. Feeling silently smug, Louis licked against him again, alternating between quick flickering licks and slow ones with a bit of pressure, and finally he pointed his tongue and traced it around Harry’s rim, feather-light and teasing before pressing the tip of his tongue straight against Harry’s opening. 

Harry arched off the bed and moaned, the hands on the sheets going into his own hair and pulling as he let out a groan that sounded suspiciously like Louis’ name. Louis slid his thumbs up and out a bit, so he wasn’t pulling so much with the pads of his thumbs, not wanting to bruise Harry, and went to town. He used his entire tongue against Harry’s crack, occasionally kissing and sucking wherever his mouth happened to be when the urge hit. It was messy, and wet, and Harry couldn’t stop writhing on the bed, his eyes shut tight and then blowing open randomly to stare down at Louis with his mouth gaping open like he couldn’t believe such a strange act could produce such an insane amount of sensation. 

Harry’s feet somehow ended up flat against Louis’ back, sliding up and down it as he moved, like he couldn’t control his limbs. Louis pressed his tongue against Harry’s hole and dipped inside only for a second, and the floodgates opened, Harry begging Louis, repeating his name and chanting ‘please, please, Lou, _please_ ’ like a mantra. One of his hands landed in Louis’ hair and he started babbling nonsense things, not making any sense, like his mouth was disconnected from his brain for the moment. 

Finally, he started crying, sobs and actual tears around single, hacking coughs of air and Louis’ name, and Louis started to pull back once he realized, but the hand in his hair kept him there, pulling just a tiny bit and making Louis moan against Harry. 

Harry let out the most ridiculous sound and came, doing some strange body-thing where his back arched off the bed but his hips pressed down into the mattress, pressing his feet against Louis’ back to tilt his bum against Louis’ mouth like he never wanted Louis to stop, even if he had just come. 

Louis slowed down, changing into kisses up Harry’s thighs so he didn’t make him oversensitive, and wanted to cry at the unfairness when he saw Harry had come so hard it had splashed up his chest and a tiny bit was on his neck, where his head had clearly been thrown back. 

He was barely given a second to enjoy the view, though, because Harry was crying his name and pulling him up on top of him, trying hard to kiss him and gasp for air at the same time and basically failing to do both, shaking too bad even as he flipped them around, laying on top of him and kissing his neck, sucking hard enough to break blood vessels and make them swell up underneath the skin, a hearty bruise forming right next to his Adam’s apple. 

Harry was suddenly gone, though, and Louis’ eyes flew open when he felt Harry’s hands pulling at his ankles. Louis yelped a bit as he was being dragged down the bed, and he tried to ask Harry why on _earth_ he was trying to pull him off the mattress, but Harry stopped as soon as Louis’ hips were nearly off the bed, his feet dangling uselessly, not touching the ground even when Louis pointed his toes to reach. 

“Harry–” Louis began, but the urge to speak evaporated when he felt Harry’s hot and wet mouth against his cock through his boxers. Instantly, Louis tried to buck up into the touch and then understood why Harry’d dragged him down like this. 

Louis couldn’t find purchased with his feet, and his hips were hanging a bit. He had no leverage, and couldn’t fuck up into Harry’s mouth. 

Louis moaned and Harry reached underneath Louis’ boxers, shakily dragging them down, having to push a bit awkwardly up under Louis’ bum to get them off of him since Louis couldn’t help. Finally, though, Harry’s warm hand was shakily grasping Louis’ cock and he mouthed up and down the length, randomly licking until Louis was grinding his teeth against the urge to bark at him to do _something_. 

Like he read Louis’ mind, though, Harry’s lips surrounded the head of his cock, not _quite_ sucking, but the pressure was nice, the warmth, and suddenly Harry’s tongue was swirling a bit, stilling at the bottom and pressing up against it as he slid down a bit, taking in another inch or so before sliding up. 

“’S good, baby, so good,” Louis moaned, stomach clenching with how bad he wanted to fuck into Harry’s mouth. Responsibly, though, he kept his hands on his stomach, nails digging into the muscles rather than letting them rest onto the bed for fear he’d use the newfound leverage. 

Harry slid off just long enough to pant, “You – taste good,” and then sank back down, taking another half-inch. He bobbed his head, sucking just a bit, and Louis only gasped a few times when Harry’s teeth scraped against him, every time followed by Harry pulling off and apologizing. Each time, Louis only nodded a bit desperately, his voice a little higher-pitched when he promised Harry it was okay. 

Harry had moved up to just over half Louis’ cock when his fingers accidentally scraped against the insides of Louis’ thighs, and he pulled back like he was going to pull off and apologize but Louis just barely had time to grunt out, “Gonna come,” and Harry instantly, like he was a trained professional, sank back down and let Louis come straight into his mouth. He pulled off a little too early, and Louis came a bit across his lip and cheek, but he just stroked Louis through it, kissing at Louis’ thighs where he’d scratched up a bit. 

Louis went boneless soon after, and Harry shakily crawled back up onto the bed, wincing a bit at his knees. Louis rolled onto his side and pinned Harry down, licking the come from his stomach and chest where it was almost dried – and wincing as a result, but he didn’t really mind – and he scooped the come off Harry’s cheek, about to just wipe it on the sheet, when Harry opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue, looking at Louis a little expectantly and a little pleadingly. 

Feeling like the wind had been knocked out of him, Louis wiped the come off on Harry’s tongue, his stomach panging as he stared at it, before Harry’s tongue was back in his mouth and he was swallowing. 

Running his hands through his hair – Harry stressed him; he was going to have gray hair far before his time at this rate – Louis kissed Harry, a little roughly at first, but Harry wanted sweet, keeping his lips a little more closed and slowing it down until Louis complied. Harry cupped Louis’ cheek with his hand, a few fingers sliding softly into his hair, thumb caressing his cheek and the side of his nose. 

“I love you,” Harry whispered. “Thank you, for - …thank you.” 

Louis smiled into Harry’s lips and nodded clumsily. “I love you, too, sweet baby,” he said, kissing Harry and pulling back only to give him an Eskimo kiss. 

They cuddled around each other until Louis glanced up at the clock, groaning because he saw they only had an hour left. Reluctantly, he got up, pulling a whiny Harry up off the bed. “No, come on,” Louis chided, “we need to get heat on your knees or you’ll be stiff for the game tonight,” he urged, and Harry didn’t want that, regardless of how comfortable cuddling in bed post-mind-blowing-orgasms had been, so he only grumbled a little, and Louis knew it was mostly just for show. 

They showered together slowly, and Harry sat on the couch in the living room in shorts and a tank top in front of their bags, going through them and double-checking them while Louis plugged in the heating pad for Harry’s knees. 

The door opened, but Louis ignored it once he heard Harry saying, “Hey, Mum!” 

Anne answered while Louis grabbed some fruit from the kitchen for his and Harry’s breakfast, not wanting to eat too much since they’d be on a bus for a few hours on the way to their football tournament. 

“Hi, darling; I just for a super quick lunch, but I’m glad you’re here – good luck this weekend!” 

“Thanks, Anne!” Louis called from the kitchen, fiddling with the still-warming heat pad. 

“You’re welcome!” 

“Thanks, Mum,” Harry said happily, and Louis heard Harry getting up off the couch and kissing her cheek. It was quiet, so Louis just assumed they were hugging and enjoying the moment, and stayed in the kitchen. Harry came in and joined Louis at the table for breakfast while Anne grabbed the mail off the counter and sorted through it, headed upstairs. 

Harry started making obscene (yet silly) pseudo-sex faces while eating his banana suggestively, so Louis hollowed out his apple a bit and started licking out the juice enough to make Harry blush and squirm, and call a truce until Louis laughed loudly in victory. 

“Harry, darling, you’ve got mail; I’m just gonna put it in your football bag, okay?” Anne called out, keys jingling. 

“Alright, that’s fine,” Harry said. He’d started out calling loudly through the house for her, and trailed off into a normal volume when Anne came into the kitchen for a protein shake and bar, snagging an orange as she went. She kissed Louis’ head, and then Harry’s on her way out, mumbling about being late and calling out another good luck wish as she hurried out the door.

When it was ten to ten, Louis stood from the table and grabbed his and Harry’s mostly-empty plates, and Harry went and grabbed their football bags. Louis grabbed their school bags – they’d sworn to do at least some schoolwork over the weekend – and keys, and they headed up to the football field, where the bus would be waiting for the tournament. 


	36. Part 35.

Harry pulled Louis’ legs up from the ground, smiling when Louis peeped open an eye to see what he was doing. Harry adjusted his earphone and turned the volume up just a bit, knowing Louis liked the song that was playing, and rubbed over Louis’ shins lightly. He was prone to shin splints, because he was stubborn and didn’t stretch correctly, so Harry grabbed Louis’ toes and pulled them back, pointing upward to Louis’ face.

Louis grimaced when Harry pulled slightly against the resistance, but Harry massaged just gently at where he knew the splints were, careful because he knew they hurt. After a while, Louis sighed in relief, so Harry let go of the foot and grabbed the other one, doing the same thing as they both calmly listened to Louis’ iPod.

When Harry was done stretching Louis’ shins, he took to idly rubbing a hand up and down them, closing his eyes and leaning back against the seat and thinking happily about what had happened in his bedroom a few hours previous. 

Squirming a bit, Harry licked his lip as he thought about how incredible Louis had made him feel with his tongue and mouth in general. Harry never thought he’d ever be _rimmed_ , or whatever. Obviously, he’d seen it in porn, but he didn’t realize people actually _did_ that – like…like how once he’d seen a video where a guy put his whole _hand_ in another guy’s bum, or he’d accidentally clicked the wrong one, a different time, and saw all these chains hanging from a ceiling and saw the ropes and stuff – people didn’t actually _do_ that, as far as he knew. 

Harry looked at his lap when he felt Louis’ leg moving, seeing his boyfriend was wiggling his foot to the beat of the song playing in their ears, and when Harry looked up at Louis, Louis was already smiling fondly at him. Harry loved the way Louis looked at him like he was, like, a _prize_ , or something. 

They smiled at each other and Harry stroked Louis’ shin sweetly before he closed his eyes and let the music lull him to sleep. They had a long bus ride. 

\---

Harry stood under the hotel’s shower, letting the hot water run over the back of his neck and sighing in relief. They’d won the game, after an over-time, and both he and Louis were _disgustingly_ sweaty, and Harry smelled so bad he didn’t even want Louis _near_ him until he’d showered. Alone.

Chibuzo and Harry had been paired up with Louis and Stan, as the two youngest and oldest – Coach had wanted the seniors to instruct the young rookies how to behave on a football tournament where they’d be representing the team and school and would need to act with the utmost maturity and respect of their hotel staff and neighbors. Thankfully, Louis’d had the foresight to bring extra chocolate chip protein bars to bribe Stan to trade rooms with Chibuzo, shrugging and saying Harry slept like a rock, whereas Chibuzo tended to stay up late and Louis wanted to get some sleep for the tourney.

Harry tensed his back and shifted his hips, stretching the muscles the way Stan had told him would help if he didn’t have a trainer nearby, and was deciding whether or not to skip conditioning his hair when he heard Louis call his name. Something sounded a bit off in his tone, so Harry shut off the water and called out, “Be there in a sec!”

Stepping out of the shower, Harry wrapped a towel around his waist and wrapped a smaller one in a turban around his hair, not liking the way the longest parts of it tended to drip down his neck. He moved from the closet-sized bathroom and stepped into the main room, finding Louis standing, facing him with a strange, anxiety-causing look on his face. He was frozen still, and clenched in his hands was a letter, and there were a few more on the floor. 

“Lou?” Harry asked cautiously, walking closer to him hesitantly. “Louis? Are you alright?”

“I think your – Anne must’ve put your mail in my bag on accident,” Louis said quietly, looking intently into Harry’s eyes. “I – figured I’d go through, chuck out the credit card offers and shit, ‘cause they irritate you…I – I found this,” he continued, looking down at his hands. “It’s – Harry, I –”

Harry looked down at the letter Louis was holding so tightly his fingers were turning white, and lifted his hands to take it from Louis. Louis’ hands didn’t let go of it. “Let go, Lou, let me see,” Harry mumbled quietly, and Louis took a deep breath and his fingers let the paper slip through.

“I don’t –” Louis ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t know what to do,” he admitted.

Confused, Harry glanced down at the envelope. It was nondescript. In the center, his name and address was typed onto a white rectangle sticker with rounded corners, same as any other mail from a place of business. Confused, Harry looked up in the corner. There was no name for the sender, but – 

_Wichita State Penitentiary – Allred Unit_   
_2101 Fm 369 N,_   
_Iowa Park, TX 76367_

“…Harry?”

“I need to sit down.”

Harry felt Louis’ hands on his elbows, steering him to turn and them pushing him down onto the bed. Harry went down easily, still staring at the return address like he couldn’t make it make sense in his head, though his emotions were already wreaking havoc in his heart. 

“Harry, what do I do?” Louis asked, a note of panic seeping through his mask. 

A little dazedly, Harry looked up at Louis. God, he is so beautiful, Harry thought. 

“Are you going into shock?!” Louis asked, bending down so his hands cupped Harry’s face. 

“No, I’m –”

“How many fingers am I holding up?” Louis demanded, holding up two. Before Louis could answer, Louis started moving his hand slowly. “Follow my hand with just your eyes,” he instructed.

“Louis, I’m – can you just, please – I…need you,” Harry finished lamely, and instantly, he had a lapful of Louis, cupping his face again and tilting his head back.

“What do you need from me, sweetheart?” Louis asked in a near-whisper. “Just, anything, please? Just tell me what you need,” he said. 

Harry closed his eyes against Louis’ hands, letting his face drop just a bit into the warm weight of them. “I just –” Harry took a deep breath and opened his eyes, looking at Louis directly. “Can you, like. Be here? While I read it?”

Louis’ instinctual look of incredulous disbelief made Harry feel ashamed.

“I – I kind of think I need to read it, Lou,” he defended himself quietly. He knew he sounded upset, because when he looked back up at Louis, his face was soft, and as Harry stared, it grew protective and decisive. Tightly, Louis nodded.

“Okay, babe,” he whispered, “yeah. I’ll be here. Always. ‘M always here, remember?” He asked, eyebrows raising imploringly, and Harry nodded in relief.

“Yeah,” he said finally. “Yeah, Lou, I know.”

Louis didn’t answer, then, just stared at Harry until he quietly asked, “Where do you want me?” 

“Here,” Harry said quickly, not even caring he was still naked under his towel and that Louis stunk. He just wanted Louis as close as possible. He wasn’t sure what would be in the letter. He was afraid. “I want you here,” he said, his voice begging, and sighed in relief when Louis nodded reassuringly. Harry swallowed. “And – can you – will you read it?” He beseeched, looking into Louis’ eyes, guarded and full of wariness. “I don’t –” Harry swallowed. “I don’t know if I could read it by myself,” he admitted quietly. 

Slowly, eyes watching Harry carefully, Louis took the letter from Harry’s fingers, clamping his thighs tight around Harry’s when Harry shifted a bit. Louis opened the letter, and Harry watched, but Harry glimpsed handwriting and his secret hopes that it was from the prison itself were dashed. This was a personal letter. From his father.

Harry’s nose itched and he leaned forward to wrap is arms around Louis, tucking his face into Louis’ chest. 

“Alright, love?” Louis asked, a hand rubbing the back of his head. Harry nodded wordlessly, and Louis leaned down and kissed his hair before he cleared his throat.

“’Harry,’” Louis read out, his voice a bit devoid of emotion. Harry flinched the slightest bit, and Louis cleared his throat again and squirmed as Harry tightened his arms around Louis. 

“’Harry,’” he tried again. “’Hey, bud! It’s your old man. I’ve missed you while I’ve been here; your hugs were so much better than my mates’ are, here in prison. I’m sorry I haven’t written to you; I hope you don’t feel abandoned, or resent your mum for never bringing you to visit, or the restraining order. I’ve been moved around a few times; turns out, most inmates don’t like blokes who mess with kids. Who’d’ve thought?’ Harry,” Louis began cautiously, checking up on Harry.

“I’m okay,” Harry lied. His stomach was churning, his eyes shut tight, and all he could see was angry gray eyes.

Louis hesitated, but continued eventually. “’Jokes probably won’t get me anywhere with you; not when you’re almost an adult, now, I guess. It’s crazy, thinking about you as a man, rather than my little baby boy. I know what I did was wrong, son, and I want to apologize. As for never writing you before, it took me about six months of being beat up here, in prison, to realize I needed to change who I was, and I started taking classes. Cooking classes, actually. I figure maybe when I get out, get settled into a place of my own, you could come over and we could have dinner, or something, and talk? Like we used to? Except you probably –’ _Harry_ ,” Louis said, sounding strangled, and Harry looked up at him. Louis looked horrified. 

Instantly, Harry felt disgusted with himself, forcing this onto Louis. This wasn’t Louis’ problem. He shifted, leaning back to sit up straight, and apologized. “God, Lou, I’m sorry. This isn’t even – here, I’ll – I’ll read it, I can do it. You don’t have to.”

“Harry –”

“Really,” Harry said, trying to be firm and trying to make his face look kind and brave. 

Slowly, Louis gave Harry the paper, and Harry tried not to show how relieved he was when Louis stayed in his lap and rested his forehead on Harry’s shoulder. 

Harry quickly found Louis’ stopping place and read silently. 

‘ _Except you probably don’t want to strip off and take a bath with me this time, eh?_  
 _Anyway, the reason I wrote you was to tell you the good news – we might have a dinner date sooner than later! My original sentence of 8yrs has been reduced to 6 for good behavior, so soon I’ll be out! On a probationary period, obviously. I’ll have a house arrest ankle and I’ll have to meet with my parole officer (real bitch, but I didn’t say that), but since your mum’s restraining order expired after five years, I can come see you since you’re sixteen now!_  
 _Well, I have to go now, but I miss you, and I’m SURE I’ll see you soon._  
 _Lots of Love, Daddy._ ’

Harry lurched up from the bed, sending Louis toppling to the floor, and ran to the bathroom, barely making it in time to be sick, upending his entire lunch, pre- and post-game snack into the bowl. Vomit got onto the towel wrapped around his hair which had come loose, dribbled down his chin and neck, and the towel on his waist had come free and pooled on the floor as he gagged and gasped for air, wishing he could throw up the sight of his dad’s eyes burned into his brain. 

“Hazza?” 

Hands came and tugged off the towel from Harry’s head and as Harry gagged, eyes wide open, he felt a clip slide into place, keeping Harry’s curls out of the way. He heard Louis rummaging in the cabinet and there was a towel draping across his back, covering his body from Louis’ view and the cold of the hotel air conditioner. Louis rubbed softly at Harry’s back through the cloth and didn’t ask any questions, so when Harry’s eyes started producing tears in earnest, he let them fall, leaning backward because he knew Louis would catch him.

He did, and he rocked Harry, gently enough that it didn’t upset his stomach more, and kissed the crown of his head. “I’ve got you; you’re alright,” he said like a chant, and Harry closed his eyes, breathing through his mouth, and nodded, his hands resting on Louis’ knees. Louis picked up the towel that had fallen and draped it over Harry’s front, so he could have some modesty, and Harry was so thankful Louis was nice that he started crying another round.

“You’re just – so – nice,” he sobbed when Louis asked him what was wrong, and Louis gave a sad and fond chuckle, burying his face into Harry’s still-wet hair. 

“’Cause I love you, sweetheart,” he reasoned, and Harry nodded, because it was true. Louis loved him.

“What’d he say?” Louis asked finally, shifting so he was sitting, rather than squatting, on the cold hotel room tile. Harry jolted a bit when Louis moved so suddenly, but Louis wrapped an arm around Harry’s chest, and he remembered he was safe. 

“He’s getting out soon,” Harry said, feeling suddenly numb. “And the restraining order was only good for five years, so he can find me. …Wants to see me.”

Louis’ arm tightened over Harry. “I’d like to see the fucker try,” he hissed, voice venomous and full of fury in a way Harry’d never heard it before. 

Hollowly, though, Harry shook his head. “He’s still my father,” he said. “He can still come see me, find me at school, work…any of that.”

“Harry, listen to me,” Louis said, ducking his head so he spoke directly into Harry’s ear. “ _He will never hurt you again_ , do you understand me? Never. I won’t let him. Nobody will.”

Harry sniffled. “Promise?” He asked, voice breaking a little bit.

“ _Swear_ ,” Louis answered almost instantly. “You’ve got so many people on your side,” he gushed, nuzzling against Harry’s temple. “Me, and Liam, and Nialler…and you know Stan’d ride or die,” he added with a chuckle Harry could only weakly echo, “…and Coach, if you told him – you know Coach would help out; he’s tough. …And any teachers, and if we have to, we can call the police. And you’ve got my mum. And I bet Karen would know what to do. And the guys at work, and even the ladies at the bakery, you know they’d kick him out if he, like, found you worked there, or something. And you’ve got your mum, too…and I bet Robin would help, if he could. If you let him.” 

Harry kept his eyes closed and leaned back against Louis’ chest, scrunching his hands to scratch at Louis’ thighs gently in affection. Finally, though, he sighed and opened his eyes. “I need to brush my teeth,” he whispered, and Louis snorted before helping him stand. Harry mumbled a thanks and Louis kissed his head before he headed back into the main room, probably giving Harry some alone time to sort his thoughts out. 

Harry washed his face and brushed his teeth, sprayed deodorant on himself and secured the towel around his waist before he headed out, leafing through his bag to find a pair of boxers to sleep in. Hesitating only a moment, wondering if Louis would be offended or not, he grabbed sweats and a t-shirt, chewing his lips as he glanced over at Louis, who was watching them, and holding them up, waiting to see how Louis would react. 

“I like the way those sweats hang off your bum,” Louis said with a grin. It was wobbly, and his voice sounded a bit guarded and unsure, but Harry thought it was probably more out of trying not to make Harry uncomfortable than actually not liking the way the sweats hung off his –

“Hey,” he whined. “They don’t – they don’t _hang_ off my bum,” he pouted, making the tension evaporate a little, because Louis laughed loudly.

Harry pulled the clothes on, feeling a little too raw and vulnerable and feeling worse about it because he was getting so good about not feeling nervous at all, being mostly-naked around Louis, and then his stupid father had to write him a stupid letter and be stupid, messing it all up. 

Louis stood, snagged some clothes from his bag, and kissed Harry’s forehead. “I’m gonna go shower,” he said against Harry’s skin, and Harry nodded, eyes closed because it was just so nice, having Louis close. Louis was like – like the embodiment of relief, or something. Harry loved it. “Gonna be okay on your own for a few?” Louis asked, pulling away to look Harry in the eyes. 

Harry blushed, but nodded, smiling for his boy a little. Louis looked on edge, still, and Harry leaned forward to kiss his cheek. “I’m okay,” he said, and Louis nodded tightly and walked into the bathroom, leaving the door open.

Harry took a deep breath and pulled out some homework, thinking maybe he could distract himself enough. It worked, kind of. In the end, Harry wasn’t sure how many of his maths problems were actually correct, but completion was half the grade for Ms. Hinton, so he wasn’t too worried. 

But when it came time to write paragraph answers to his History homework, Harry zoned out, pencil scribbling across the paper, and he didn’t snap out of it until he felt Louis’ still-wet arms wrapping around him. Louis slid behind him, propped back against the headboard, and kissed his temple. “Can I read it?” He asked.

Harry blinked, his History homework coming into focus, and realized he wasn’t talking about Eleanor of Aquitaine at all, but a letter. 

“I – didn’t realize I was writing it,” he admitted, feeling peculiarly off-balance. He wondered if he’d gone insane.

But Louis just shrugged. “I’ve done that a few times,” he said easily. “Used to write Mark and my real dad nasty letters and leave them around the house. But once, our maid found one –”

“You don’t have a _maid_ ,” Harry said, a little shocked. He wondered if their maid just came at night.

But Louis only rolled his eyes. “We _used_ to,” he said, sticking his tongue out. “ _Anyway_ ,” he said with a scrunchy-nosed look to Harry, “the maid found one and taught me to go out to the fountain in the front yard, and light the letters on fire. Called it _casting my demons_ , or something. It’s supposed to feel nice, seeing all your feelings you wrote down on the paper burning in a fire. Kind of makes it feel more intense, and then when the paper’s burned up, you feel a little better.”

Harry leaned to the side and looked over his shoulder to get a good look at Louis. “You’re kind of brilliant,” he said, and Louis smiled softly, but Harry noticed Louis’ eyes weren’t smiling. They were sad, and worried.

Harry put down the notebook and snuggled back into Louis’. Louis maneuvered Harry’s ever-growing limbs so that Harry was kind of wrapped Koala-style around him, if he leaned forward, but he didn’t. “Hey,” Harry said quietly, swiping fingers across Louis’ handsome face. He really was beautiful. “I’m – I’m okay,” he said, looking into Louis’ troubled blue eyes. It only halfway felt like a lie. Louis caught it anyway, and sent Harry a disapproving look for lying. “I mean, I’m – alright, I’m not, like, _okay_ ,” Harry admitted reluctantly, “but I’m, like, you know. I’m okay. I mean. I’m just. …Scared,” he finished quietly, eyes stinging a little.

Through blurry eyes, Louis’ face looked torn, shredded apart. “I don’t even know how to tell you how sorry I am,” he said. Harry gave him a confused look, which he must’ve caught, because he explained, “I know it’s dumb – we’ve only actually _known_ each other, like, what? Eight, nine months? …But I just – I feel like I’ve let you down by not being there for you. When it happened before, when you were a kid. I just – I look at you, I see the way you light up just at tiny random things, and I see the way you – the way you’re _dying_ , on the inside, because you want your dad, you _need_ your dad, and you wish you could forgive him and have him back all the way like it never happened, and I see how much it kills you that you’re terrified any of that might happen at the same time. Baby, I _see_ it.” Harry’s lip started quivering, and Louis tightened his grip around Harry. But Louis wasn’t done.

“I just wish I could’ve been there, or something, you know? Kept you in your room so you’d’ve never seen your dad do what he did, or hung out with _him_ so he didn’t do what he did in the first place – or mediate between your parents, I don’t fucking know. I just – I look at you, and I see who you are and I know your heart and I know what it feels like to be loved by you, to, like, feel that love from you, and I just want to fucking _scream_ , because you just – you shouldn’t have to go through that. Nobody should, but really not _you_. It’s not – it’s not fair, because you’re – I mean, it’s my job to protect you, to love you and take care of you and be there whenever you need me and even when you don’t, and I wasn’t there to help in the scariest moments of your life, and you shouldn’t have had to go through it. I don’t know,” Louis said, suddenly sounding a little insecure. “It’s – that’s probably stupid,” he said quietly, bending his finger to draw circles and other shapes on Harry’s kneecap. “I just think you shouldn’t have to be scared, and you should get what you want.”

Sniffling a little, Harry leaned in to kiss Louis on the corner of his mouth. “But, Lou, I’ve – I’ve _got_ what I always wanted,” he said truthfully, a twisted smile. “Maybe it cost me some things, like a father, and, like, trauma and completely crazy flashbacks and stuff, but. I’ve got some friends. I’m on Varsity for footie. I’ve got – I’m in love with the stupidest, silliest, sweetest, fittest, most wonderful person and _he loves me back_ , Lou. My mum’s found love again. I’m doing well in school. I’ve got a job. I’m getting therapy. Lou, maybe I don’t have a father, or anything, but why do I need one?”

Louis smiled and buried his face in Harry’s neck, fingers lightly scratching Harry’s back through the shirt. They sat quietly for a while until Louis noticed it was getting late, and remembered their first game was a mid-morning one. “We should go to sleep,” he said reluctantly. “…Do you – should I go into the other bed?” 

“No,” Harry said quickly, looking up nervously. “I – did you…did you want to?” He asked, trying not to be overemotional about it. He was only too aware of the fact that Louis had seen him naked and vomiting, crying over his stupid Daddy-issues for the second time in their nine months of knowing each other. “I brushed my teeth, and washed it all off,” he said. “Really, I brushed, like, really hard.”

“Harry, I don’t care,” Louis said, and Harry bit his lip. “I don’t want to go,” he added. “I just wanted to give you the option, if you need your space,” Louis explained, and, well – that made more sense, Harry supposed. 

“I – I don’t want space,” Harry whispered. He looked down at his and Louis’ laps, noticing Louis had put on shorts to go to bed in. “I’m – I don’t think I’m, like, up, for doing anything tonight, though,” he admitted. 

Louis made a sound in the back of his throat. “I wasn’t even gonna ask, sweetheart,” he pointed out. “Tonight’s about you, alright? Not us.”

Harry sighed, nodding, and feeling extremely disappointed. “I just – I really was…” He blushed, clearing his throat because the room was suddenly a little warm. “Our - …we’re, like, in a hotel…and, like. First time, like alone, or whatever. I was – I was thinking we’d…do some stuff. But then – stupid – my _fucking_ father,” he spat, a spark of anger surging up. It was gone as soon as he swore, released in the vehemence of the bad word, and Harry hung his head down on Louis’ shoulder, not sure how he should feel. He hated swearing, always felt weird after doing it, and he knew Louis didn’t like it when he swore, either.

But Louis’ hand came up to the back of Harry’s head, fingers scratching through his wet curls. He took the clip from Harry’s fringe, rubbing his back with the other hand and murmuring, “It’s okay, sweetheart; you’re alright. I’m here. I’m here.” 

Harry wrapped his arms around Louis and leaned sideways, plopping down onto his side and pulling Louis with him. They laughed, even though it was a bit weighted and heavy, and Louis let go briefly to move all Harry’s homework to the night stand and set the alarm clock. 

Harry flipped over in the covers and curled up just a little, waiting, and Louis double-checked the locks on the hotel door and then turned off the lights before he crawled up into bed and wrapped himself around Harry. Instantly, Harry felt a little bit better, and he forgot about the letter and focused on the way Louis breathed against his neck, fingers scratching lightly over his belly, tucked just up under the hem of his shirt, bicep of the other arm flexing just a bit where Harry settled his head.

On the nightstand, a spiral notebook had a few paragraphs scribbled, detached and cold.

_Des,_   
_I’m alright, thank you. I hope you’re well, and I’m glad you’ve been behaving properly. I hope the inmates haven’t hurt you too badly, although you probably deserve whatever you’ve gotten. _   
_I’m playing football, and I’m in a wonderful relationship that’s changed my life so much already. He’s very loving and understanding of my limitations, even though they’re 100% your fault. Mum’s seeing someone, as well, and they’re very happy together. Her boyfriend a nice man, though I’m still wary of him, and it makes me angry because both him and Mum deserve for me to let him into my life but I can’t, and that’s completely, 100% your fault._   
_I’m not sure if I’ve forgiven you, to be honest, but I am sure that I’m not ready to see you. Please respect that. When and if that changes, I will find a way to contact you, but know now that I won’t be meeting you alone, regardless, and I will probably never come to yours, nor will you be welcomed at mine. I’m not even sure how you got this new address, but please don’t use it again. When you’re released from prison and get a place of your own, you can write me at this address to give me your new one, but that is all. I will ignore any further attempts of yours to contact me, and I’m not sure how comfortable that makes me, so please don’t try._   
_Harry Styles._


	37. Part 36.

Louis woke up when Harry left the bed.

It was already strange enough for Harry to even be _awake_ before Louis, and another for Harry to be leaving the bed before Louis dragged him up and out of it, so Louis was nearly wide awake almost instantly. 

He watched, hyper-conscious of last night’s memory, as Harry quietly picked up some clothes and a towel from his bag and headed into the bathroom. Louis listened, staying quiet and still, and he heard the door shut quietly, Harry bustling around on the other side of it. Harry brushed his teeth, probably washed his face, and then started the shower. Louis allowed himself a moment of immaturity and sniggered because he knew Harry wasn’t in the shower yet and was on the toilet, but it wasn’t long until he heard Harry’s fumbling footsteps, the flush of the toilet, and the slide of the shower curtain, telling Louis Harry was now in the tub.

Louis looked over to the clock and saw it was just before six a.m. and frowned, wondering why in the world Harry would’ve gotten up so early, and he lay in bed thinking for a solid few minutes before he heard soft, tiny echoes of crying. Someone else might not have picked it up, but Louis had younger sisters, one of which was now a pre-teen and didn’t want anyone knowing she P.M.S.’d and got emotional yet, so Louis knew the signs and was at the bathroom door within seconds. 

He knocked quietly, and the tiny whimpers stopped. “I’m in the shower,” Harry called through the door, a bit uselessly.

“Can I come in?” Louis asked quietly. He knew this must be a weird time for Harry, who wanted and needed the emotional and even physical comfort and feeling of security, but also having to deal with his brain creating fear of men, including Louis. Louis knew Harry saw that fear as a betrayal of his own emotions and mind, but Louis couldn’t dismiss it as such. Of course, there was no need for Harry to fear _him_ ; Louis would never hurt Harry. But after going through such a horrifying trauma as a young child, Louis knew Harry’s brain was just trying to protect him, and give him some solid instincts. Even though Louis _hated_ seeing a flash of fear or even _uncertainty_ in Harry’s eyes, he knew it wasn’t personal and knew Harry loved and trusted him, and he did his best to make sure Harry knew _Louis_ knew all that.

“Yeah,” Harry said, so quietly Louis nearly missed it.

Louis opened the door and saw through the filmy shower curtain that Harry was sat down in the corner of the tub, only his calf and toes getting the shower spray. Harry was all wet, though, and his knees were bent up, his arms wrapped around them and his forehead rested on top. His shoulders shook every once in a while, a round of tears and sniffles coming through. 

“Oh, Hazza,” Louis said quietly, dropping to his knees on the other side of the shower curtain. He pulled at the offending material and pulled it to the side, exposing Harry’s red and puffy eyes and miserable-looking quivering lip. Hot tears ran down Harry’s face at awkward angles with the way Harry was resting his temple on his knee, now looking over at Louis pitifully. 

“Didn’t wanna wake you up,” he half-whimpered, half-whispered. 

“Sweetheart, don’t worry about waking me up,” Louis admonished softly. He slowly reached forward and pushed mostly-wet hair out of his boyfriend’s face. “I’ll always come check on you, sleepy or not,” he added firmly as he tucked hair behind Harry’s ear.

They watched each other quietly for a few minutes before Louis licked his lips in thought. “Wanna come back to bed?” Harry shook his head. “Wanna talk about it?” He tried a second time, and Harry, astonishingly, nodded. “Alright,” Louis said, shifting to get comfortable as he relaxed down on his knees on the floor. “What’s – stupid question, probably, but…what’s wrong?”

Harry snorted humorlessly at Louis’ worry, rolling his eyes to tell Louis not to worry so much. “Just – I’m, like. …I dunno,” he confessed, looking frustrated. “Part of me wants to never see him again,” he said, closing his eyes, but his lips started curving down, and he let out a sob.

Louis didn’t have to ask who ‘he’ was. “And the other part?” He prompted quietly, dread pooling in his stomach. Harry didn’t answer. “What about the other part, sweet baby?” Louis urged, reaching to card through his wet hair. “What’s the other part say?”

“It’s – in half,” Harry said. “Like – half of that part? It wants to – to see him, just so I can yell at him, or hit him, or – or show him how good you are, how much – how much better I am, now he’s gone and stuff. …But the – the other, like, part of – of that part, you know, it…” Harry turned his face so it was hidden, forehead centered between his knees so Louis couldn’t see him, and started crying in earnest.

“Harry,” Louis said, pained.

Disregarding his clothes, Louis pushed more at the shower curtain and crawled in it, sliding his legs under Harry’s and wrapping his arms around Harry’s back. Harry squeaked a bit in surprise, but Louis started pulling Harry into his lap, leaning back a bit so they were up under the spray, rather than in its direct path. Once they were situated, Harry started crying again and Louis just rubbed through his hair and back as best as he could while Harry sobbed into his neck, hands clenched into fists at Louis’ back.

“But I _miss_ him, I _l-love_ him, I – I _want to see him_ , and it m-makes me _so angry_ , because at the same time, I just w-wish he’d – get hit by a _bus_ , or – or something, and make it easier on _all of us_ …because what k-kind of _m-man_ does what he did to their _child_ and _doesn’t even say th-they’re sorry_ , Lou? Who?” 

Harry drew back and looked Louis in the eyes, and Louis fought back the lump in his throat. Harry’s eyes were red-rimmed, veiny and the brightest Louis’d ever seen them, and his skin was blotchy and crinkled, his big lips stretched thin with how much they were curving into his frown as he cried. 

“‘Cause I can’t im-magine why, after all this – all this _t-time_ , I never got a ‘hey, sorry I t-touched you inappropriately and r-ruined your life and gave you possibly-perman-nent intimacy a-and trust issues, my bad’ from him. And I just –”

Harry started sobbing too much for Louis to understand, and Louis just pulled him forward again, shushing him quietly, trying to keep his composure as Harry gritted his teeth and made pained shrieking sounds through them, fists pounding a little on Louis’ shoulder blades. 

“It’s _not fair_!” He cried over and over again angrily, and Louis couldn’t even disagree or offer some bullshit wisdom to make him feel better. Finally, Harry’s cries of unfairness stopped being angry and gradually turned into despair. Louis wondered if he was sad because it was his father who hurt him, or if he was sad because he still loved the man. Either way, Louis reckoned Harry was right. This wasn’t fair at all. 

The water finally ran out of heat, kicking on cold and it pooled under their bums and ankles, but neither of them moved until Harry stopped crying. Louis waited until Harry was still, his breathing evened out, to pull back, and he saw Harry was asleep in his arms. 

Louis stretched as far as he could, reaching up to turn off the water and shivering when it ran over them on its way down as it lost power, and then he reached as far as he could to the side to open the bathroom door as wide as possible in hopes that the alarms would be loud enough to wake him from the other room. 

Louis hoisted Harry closer before he snatched the towels from on top of the toilet, laying one behind his head and draping the other over them both in the hopes of warmth, and he fondly stayed as still as possible while Harry snuffled around in his sleep, trying to find all the right Louis-spaces to fit into. 

His wet curls went underneath Louis’ chin, his face tucked against Louis’ neck so his heavy breaths buzzed the skin of Louis’ throat. One arm stretched underneath Louis’ shoulder blade, those fingers hooking around Louis’ shoulder and holding on, and the other arm was crushed in between them, folded up so Harry’s balled-up fist sat in the dip of one of Louis’ collar bones. Harry’s torso twisted a bit lower down so his legs were curled in together, toes of both feet cold and squeezed down in between Louis’ thighs for warmth, and every once in a while, Harry twitched in his sleep, breath snuffling out of pattern a bit and the fingers against Louis’ collarbone pressing in sometimes before they relaxed again. 

“Your dad doesn’t know what he gave up when he messed with you, sweetheart,” Louis murmured into Harry’s wet curls, skating a hand down Harry’s upper arm. “Doesn’t deserve to, either,” he added, “but I’ll do anything to make you happy.” Louis pressed a kiss to Harry’s hair, closing his eyes and resting his head back against the semi-wet towel. “Sleep tight,” he whispered.

\---

Pitiful and pathetic-sounding whines woke Louis up, and he raised his head to look around and ended up with a mouthful of Harry’s mostly-dried curls. Louis groaned as Harry only whined further, until he heard the alarms going off in the background. Those must have bothered Harry into whining, like he usually did in the morning.

Louis patted a little roughly at Harry’s back. “Up, Hazza,” he said sleepily, earning more whines and what sounded suspiciously like a “no” muffled into his chest. Harry shook his head, making Louis laugh a bit. Rubbing his back again, Louis argued softly, “ _Yes_ , Hazza; game time.”

Harry took a few seconds to debate over whether or not it was worth it, but must have decided it was, because with another last groan, he pushed himself up off of Louis, blushing as he realized his naked state. He made to cover himself until he realized Louis was watching his face, and not looking anywhere else, while Louis scrutinized how puffy Harry’s eyes were looking after literally crying himself to sleep.

“You good to play today, babe?” Louis asked softly, trying to keep any tone that would piss Harry off out of his voice. 

He must’ve succeeded well enough, because rather than being upset, Harry gave a little smile, marred only by his sleepiness, and nodded. “I’ll be alright,” he said around a yawn.

Louis reached forward and brushed a hand across Harry’s cheek. “You sure?” He asked. “You can beg off for this one. I won’t judge you, or anything. I could hardly blame you if you wanted to stay in and get some more sleep. You didn’t get nearly enough last night.”

But Harry just nodded and scrunched up his nose, catching Louis’ hand in his own and rubbing fingers across the back of it. “I think – if I stayed here…I think I’d just, like, go crazy, or something,” he admitted wryly.

That was good enough for Louis. “Alright, pumpkin,” he said easily, and they made eye contact and Louis smiled at him, a strong, encouraging one, before he pulled at Harry’s hand. “Come ‘ere,” he said quietly as Harry drew closer, pulling him in for a sweet tiny kiss, ignoring the stupid alarm clocks in the background. 

Louis kept the kiss light and sweet, but was surprised when Harry’s tongue slipped over his lip. Louis parted his lips a bit, and Harry licked right into his mouth, up the center of his tongue until he couldn’t reach and down the roof of his mouth. Louis gave a happily surprised sound from the back of his throat, and felt Harry smile against his lips before his tongue retreated back, ending the kiss sweetly as it had begun. 

Harry rested their foreheads together, his puffy lips chasing Louis’ for more little pecks of affirmation until it got ridiculous and Louis pulled back, laughing lightly at him.

“What’s that for?” he asked, hoping the smile on his face was hiding the tight watchfulness around his eyes. 

Harry just bit his lip a bit, looking a little insecure for a second. “It’s – well, one, ‘cause I love you and all,” he said, trying to pass it off as a joke. Louis didn’t buy it, so he admitted, “For – not, like. Thinking I’m crazy? For – like, for my – for wanting to see my father, and stuff. I know I shouldn’t feel that way, but I just –” He hung his head, ashamed.

Quickly, Louis cupped his face, looked him in the eyes, and fiercely told him, “Harry Styles, you listen to me. If anyone tells you that you should or shouldn’t feel a certain way, they’re absolutely full of _shit_. _Full_ of it, do you hear me? Even if I’m telling you that. Even if it’s me saying something like ‘oh, you shouldn’t be nervous about that test’, just be like, ‘go fuck yourself’, because I shouldn’t say that. Or, I shouldn’t be saying it that way, at least. You’ve got _every right_ to feel _any_ way you want to feel. Emotions aren’t a right or wrong thing, babe. So if you want to miss your father, I can’t personally say I would feel the same in your shoes – but that doesn’t mean it’s _wrong_ to miss him. Not at all. I kind of get it. Sure, he’s a dick, but he’s still the man who raised you for half your life. ‘S nothing you can do to change that bit of his role in your life, right?” A little less miserably, Harry nodded, and Louis leaned in for a kiss to his forehead. “Don’t ever let _anybody_ tell you how to feel. It’s wrong.”

Harry looked up and gave Louis a half-smile, laughing a bit humorlessly before he asked, “Can I love you forever?” 

Such a simple question, and it choked Louis up. He smiled back automatically, kissed Harry’s cheek, and said, “Not if you don’t get your arse up; I only like football players.” He stood and let Harry take over the bathroom, going to get dressed and check their bags another time. 

But when he was alone, he sat down on the edge of the bed and scrubbed a hand over his face. When did Harry become so important that all Louis wanted was to be with him? As soon as Harry had asked that question, Louis had wanted to reply ‘I’m kind of counting on it, love’, and he meant it. When had he started counting on Harry’s love forever? When had he stopped counting on a future of football? Of school? Of his sisters and his mum and Stan and Zayn as his roommates while they were off at school? 

Louis sighed. They hadn’t been dating seven months yet and Louis felt like Harry was one of the most important things, and the only scary bit of that was that the fact didn’t scare him at all.

Heading into the bathroom to see what was taking Harry so long, Louis couldn’t help but laugh when he saw Harry struggling with his hair clip. _How_ Harry didn’t get so frustrated with putting it up every day for football that he didn’t just cut it off, Louis would never know, but he was glad because he _really_ loved Harry’s curls. 

Still, though, they were a cause for delay, and Harry didn’t even have his kit on.

“Come here,” Louis sighed, pulling Harry away from the bathroom counter. Louis hopped up on it, turning Harry around to face the opposite wall, and Louis pulled him back in by the shoulder. Harry stood, probably extremely confused, up against the bathroom counter between Louis’ spread legs, facing away from Louis, but he didn’t ask any questions. “Hair clip?” Louis requested, holding a hand out expectantly. Harry deposited the clip into Louis’ waiting hand, and Louis grunted in approval. “Be shorter,” he commanded, frustrated, and snorted when Harry bent his knees a bit more. Still, it worked.

Louis grabbed a comb and wet his hand under the faucet before he ran it through Harry’s curls, wetting them down a bit so it wouldn’t hurt to comb through his hair as bad. Once it was mostly free of tangles, Louis grabbed all of Harry’s fringe and started braiding it, the way he did for the twins, pulling curls back into a French braid until it hit the crown of Harry’s head, where he twisted the rest and clipped it into place. 

“Turn around,” Louis ordered, and Harry did just that, allowing Louis to scrutinize his work. Their teammates would probably tease him a bit for his ‘pretty’ braid, but it would stay out of his face, except for a few little wispy’s here and there which had managed to escape already, but it was a nice little half-ponytail braid style that Louis knew from experience with his sisters would hold, so long as Harry left it alone. He told Harry so, and Harry agreed quickly to leave his hair alone until after the game, before he scurried off to get dressed. 

Louis peeked out around the door of the bathroom, watching Harry get dressed in his footie kit. He seemed happy and energetic, more than he had been before Louis had come in to help him out. Louis watched as the boy he loved dressed in his school sports uniform, staring into a mirror in the room as he psyched himself up like he was preparing to jet off to war.

\---

Louis shut the door and wrapped his arms around Harry from behind, resting his hands on Harry’s slowly-forming six pack (it was a four-pack, at the moment, those pesky bottom two being difficult for him, but Louis secretly _loved_ it). Harry’s hands rested on top of his, and he leaned back into Louis’ embrace, smelly and sweaty, just like Louis. 

But Louis didn’t care, as he kissed right along the collar of Harry’s jersey, slowly making his way up his neck. Harry had played ridiculously hard, with a ferocity that made Louis nervous he’d be injured, but they’d been in sync with each other and it was, without a doubt, Harry’s best game. The whole team had gone to dinner to celebrate their annihilation of Lake Forest, and Harry had had a blast, smiling and laughing, joking around and barely getting nervous at all. There had been a moment of doubt, when several waiters and waitresses came to distribute the ordered food, and _of course_ Harry’s food had been on the tray of a bulky, grown man, but Louis had stood and reached across the table to accept it for him so Harry didn’t have to deal with the man. (Louis knew he was coddling Harry, and that Harry would have to be able to do things on his own once Louis had left for school, but the beam Louis received for his efforts distracted him from caring too much.) 

It became clear that Harry wanted to enjoy his triumph tonight when, on the bus, he ducked into the window seat, pulling Louis eagerly in next to him, and as soon as the bus took off, he slid a leg between Louis’ knees and leaned in, wrapping a hand around the side of Louis’ neck and started breaking bruises on Louis’ throat. It had taken all Louis’ restraint not to make a sound.

Now, Harry shivered as Louis traced the shell of his ear with his tongue. “What do you say,” Louis began, his voice making Harry shiver again, “we go take a shower, and then come to bed, hmm?”

Breathing heavily, Harry’s head tilted to the side and his hands tightening over Louis’ on his stomach, Harry suggested, “We could skip the shower.”

Louis chuckled lowly. “Eager tonight, are we?” He teased, but kissed Harry’s neck a little sloppily to show he didn’t mind at all. Harry’s breathing hitched and he turned suddenly in Louis’ arms, pressing his hips forward. Louis’ throat went dry. He could feel Harry’s cock, almost completely hard, so close to his own.

Louis let his hands drop to Harry’s bum, squeezing his little cheeks – Harry had the cutest little bum; Louis loved it – and coaxed Harry into a kiss as Louis grinded his hips against Harry’s. “Bed?” He asked into Harry’s mouth, smiling at Harry’s immediate nod of agreement. 

Louis slowly walked them to the bed, turning them so the mattress hit the back of his knees and he sat down on the edge, holding Harry’s hips tightly to keep him from sinking down onto the bed as well. Louis looked up at Harry, who was watching him with blown eyes, and started pushing up at the hem of his jersey. Harry got the hint quickly and whipped it off, the undershirt coming off, too, and Louis spread his knees and pulled Harry to stand between them, pressing his face against Harry’s defining abs. 

Fingers gripping tightly, Louis let his teeth graze the ridges of muscles because he knew it would make Harry shiver and let out a quiet breathy little moan, and those were some of his favorites from Harry. Louis sucked little kisses all over Harry’s torso, spending just a little bit of time sucking Harry’s nipples until Harry’s hands clenched down on Louis’ shoulders, gripping tight. 

“Lou,” Harry panted as Louis’ teeth grazed up the side of his ribcage. “Lou, please.”

Louis looked up at Harry, biting his lip. “What do you want, sweetheart?” He asked, voice rough from arousal.

“Just – let me –” Harry pushed at Louis’ shoulders, and Louis lay back on the bed while Harry climbed on top of him. Immediately, Louis grinded his hips up, earning a gasp from Harry as their cocks got some friction between them. “Stay – stay still,” Harry panted, his hands on Louis’ chest, bunching up in the shirt.

Harry bent down and kissed Louis before moving down, mouthing at his jaw and then down his throat, pausing to push up Louis’ jersey to his armpits, and Louis just pulled the damn thing off his head so Harry could kiss anywhere he wanted. 

That ended up being down his entire body, and when he reached the waistline of Louis’ football shorts, Harry grinned up at him before biting down on the bit of fat right above it, sucking on it and licking it. His hands came and gripped Louis’ hips, keeping them mostly still and giving Louis a thrill through his entire body once again that _Harry was bigger than him_. The thought made him moan. 

“I’m gonna – can I, erm. Do you want me to suck you off?” Harry asked, breathing heavily as his fingers slid underneath the waistband of Louis’ shorts. 

“ _Fuck_ , Harry, the answer to that question will never not be ‘yes’,” he said, and Harry backed up off of him immediately. Louis felt himself being pulled down, off the edge of the bed like the day before, and responsibly twisted his hands up in the duvet on the bed. 

“…loved having you in my mouth, it was so good,” Harry was babbling quietly, and Louis when he registered the words paired with the desperate tone, adding it to the frantic pulling at Louis’ football shorts.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait,” Louis suddenly. Harry froze, looking up at Louis with wide eyes. 

“Did I do something wrong?” He asked, and Louis shook his head, sitting up awkwardly from the edge of the bed to reach Harry. 

“No, no, sweetie, you’re fine,” he assured, cupping Harry’s face. “Just – maybe we should wait for blowjobs tonight; I’ve just remembered how gross we are,” he grimaced, disappointed a bit by the distinct lack of _mouth_ he had on his cock.

Harry looked as disappointed as Louis, and Louis almost felt bad before envisioning the look Harry would have on his face if he took off Louis’ stinky, sweaty jock strap and cup after hours of football and had to suck him off.

Louis decided to not feel bad, then.

“Look, babe, seriously – it’ s not worth it,” Louis cajoled him, fingers brushing at one of Harry’s hands while Harry pouted a little bit. “I know my cock after football. It’s not pretty,” he added wryly, and Harry blushed but laughed loudly.

“Okay,” he relented, shifting on his knees on the floor. He looked down at Louis’ knees, drawing random shapes onto his skin as he asked, “So, you don’t wanna…do stuff?”

“Oh, no, I _do_ ,” Louis said quickly, and Harry looked up at him, his face a bit relieved and seriously excited again. “Just – probably shouldn’t suck me off. Not unless you wanna wait for a shower.”

Harry bit his lip, and Louis stayed quiet to let him do his thinking. Finally, he blushed and shyly suggested, “We could…I mean, I could – erm, with my – with my hand? For you…”

Louis’ cock twitched in interest, filling up where he’d gone a tiny bit soft from the discussion. “What about you?” He asked a little slowly. “I know we said I’d suck you off if you got _me_ off, but sorry, babe; I’m not risking the sweat factor.”

Harry laughed self-consciously. “No, I – we could, erm. Do you remember how we – with you, like, on…top? Of me?”

“ _Oh_ , yeah,” Louis said, a bit excited. “I could do that.” 

Harry laughed a bit self-deprecatingly. “I know it’s, like, probably boring,” he began, but Louis cut him off sternly.

“ _Hey_ ,” he said, looking Harry dead in the eye. “None of that tonight, okay? This is about you, playing like a fucking pro footballer, and not giving a _shit_ about anything ‘cause you’re incredible. Got it?” Harry nodded quickly, and Louis smiled, a little smug.

“Good,” he said, and then yanked Harry’s hands until they both fell back onto the bed, Harry landing with a huff on top of Louis and immediately kissing him. 

Louis quickly flipped them over, anyway, one hand threading through Harry’s and stretching their arms high over Harry’s head on the mattress while the other ran down over Harry’s chest as their hips rolled a little slowly. This was probably Louis’ favorite thing to do sexually with Harry. It was so intimate, feeling the way Harry’s arms wove around him, the way his feet would dig desperately into the backs of Louis’ thighs, the pants and the way Harry’s head would fall back onto the mattress as his back arched the closer he got, the way he bit his lip in attempts to stay quiet and made too much noise anyway. The way his ragged breathing vibrated his throat while Louis kissed wetly down its column, feeling Harry’s blunt nails dig into his shoulder blade a little as Harry panted at Louis to go faster. 

Louis slid his hand down Harry’s thigh, hooking around the back of a knee and hitching Harry’s leg up higher, opening his legs just a little bit more to get that tiny amount closer, increasing the friction for Harry. Harry’s back arched and his fingers squeezed Louis’ as he whined, heels digging into Louis’ thigh and bum as his own hips rolled up to meet Louis’. 

Louis mouthed messily, out of breath, at Harry’s jaw, loving the way Harry craned his neck whichever way Louis wanted to give him more access. He loved everything about Harry, really, and as he whispered it hotly into Harry’s neck, Harry’s voice broke on a moan as he came into his clothes. Louis’ cock gave a throb, and Louis knew, as he eased his grinds down, that Harry wouldn’t have to work too hard to bring him off, as well.

Louis kissed all over Harry’s face while Harry panted, eyes wide and cheeks flushed, lips bitted and chewed raw and his chest heaving. “Wow,” he breathed, his bright eyes staring up at Louis with awe. “That was incredible.”

Louis smiled and leaned down, giving Harry a kiss. “Agreed,” he said against Harry’s lips. 

Harry made a happy noise of surprise as Louis kept kissing him, and Louis’ fingers played at the loose curls at the base of Harry’s neck (Harry had decided to keep his hair up through dinner, wearing Louis’ braid with pride and blushing happily whenever anyone brought it up. Louis had started to think maybe Harry liked the fact that Louis had done it simply for _him_ , and made a note to start doing his hair for games more often, if Harry hinted that he wanted it).

Suddenly, Harry flipped them over so he was sitting on top of Louis, grinning down at him. “Your turn,” he chirped, making Louis grin excitedly.


	38. Part 37.

Harry sighed as he wrote down yet another angry sentence. He had already finished cleaning up otherwise, and they had an hour before they had to all meet at the bus to go home from the tournament.

_38). I’m preventing Mum from being happy with a good guy she deserves because I keep worrying he’ll change, too._

Suddenly, he heard dogs barking and looked around to see Louis’ phone lit up and vibrating across the table. “Lou, phone’s ringing!” Harry called.

From the hotel shower, Louis called, “Go ahead and answer it for me, please!”

Harry picked up the phone, freezing just a bit when he saw _Zayn_ on the screen. Harry cleared his throat and answered. “Hello?”

“ _Erm, Harry?_ ” Zayn asked, clearly confused.

“Yeah, ‘s me. Lou’s in the shower, asked me to answer for him,” Harry explained.

“ _Oh. Erm. Alright, then. Could you – could you tell him I called? And, like, to please stop ignoring my calls? It’s really important._ ”

Harry’s brows furrowed. “He’s ignoring your calls?” He asked, upset.

“ _Shit, you probably weren’t supposed to know that, then…Erm, whatever. But, right. Could you just – could you let him know I_ need _to talk to him?_ ”

Harry swallowed. “Erm, yeah,” he said cautiously. “Do you – I could, like, take a message, or something, if you –”

“ _No, no, he’d kill me,_ ” Zayn mumbled and sighed, frustrated. “ _I just – I really_ need _to talk to him, seriously. Erm. Just tell him. Beg him. Do whatever you have to do to make him call me, alright? Bye._ ”

“Wait, Zayn!” Harry said, suddenly struck by an idea. Zayn paused, and Harry quickly asked, “Could you meet up with me sometime this week? Like, just me and you?”

Zayn paused, and then said warily, “ _I dunno, mate, I –_ ”

“Please,” Harry interrupted, desperate. “Just – there’s seriously nobody else I can come to about this who won’t, like, freak out, or baby me, and I – …please? You said we’re mates, right? I’ll get Louis to talk to you somehow, if you do this for me. Just me and you, nobody knows.” Harry already had that uncomfortable twisty feeling in his gut, knowing Louis wouldn’t like it…but Harry needed this.

Zayn sighed over the phone. “ _Alright, mate. What time do you get home? We can meet up, I’ll pick you up or something._ ”

Harry grinned. “Right,” he said, mind whirring quickly as he planned. He heard Louis turn off the shower through the wall. “Erm, right. We should be in around three this afternoon? Lou’s going home to see his mum and sisters a little after.” Harry held his breath hopefully, smiling when Zayn sighed again.

“ _Yeah, alright,_ ” he said. “ _Just text me or something once he’s gone; I’ll come pick you up. Where are we going?_ ”

“I was thinking Hidden Creek?” Harry suggested. “I know how to get there; don’t worry. I’ll tell you.”

“ _Alright,_ ” Zayn said eventually. “ _See you later, then._ ”

“Bye.” Harry hung up Louis’ phone and breathed out a sigh of relief, and he jumped when he heard Louis’ voice.

“Who was that?”

Harry looked up to see Louis standing, a towel wrapped around his waist, against the door of the bathroom. His face looked open and curious, so Harry knew Louis didn’t suspect anything.

“Oh,” he said, shrugging to feign nonchalance. “Zayn.”

“Zayn?” Louis repeated in surprise, straightening up. 

“Yeah,” Harry said slowly, watching Louis carefully. “He said he _really_ needs to talk to you. Said it’s really important, but he wouldn’t tell me when I offered to pass it along.” Harry swallowed. “I think you should really talk to him, Lou.”

Louis avoided his eye as he stooped to pick up some clothes. Harry felt his face heating up when the towel dropped a bit so that when Louis stood up, Harry could see the compacted muscle and the line of Louis’ v-cut. “I’ll call him,” he said shiftily. “I just don’t know what to say to him.”

Harry sighed. “Louis, it didn’t sound like Zayn’s fishing for a sappy makeup and reunion; I think he really needs something. When’s the last time he’s ever been desperate enough to ask people he barely even _knows_ to get your attention for him?” He asked rhetorically, thinking of the conversation he’d had with Liam over text the day they left for the tournament.

Louis froze just a bit, and then sighed wearily. “Liam tell you about that, then?” He asked, defeated, nodding when Harry nodded. “I figured. Look, I don’t know, yeah? I mean – he’s never _had_ to go to extremes to get my attention, has he? We’ve never been like this before. It could be him just excited about some art thing, or something, and he wants to tell his best mate but I’m not there anymore.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Louis. Would Zayn Malik _really_ approach Liam in the school parking lot and beg him to call you because he needs to talk to you, over some ‘ _art thing_ ’? No. He wouldn’t. He knows Liam, sure, but he doesn’t _know_ Liam, and he’s too private for that. He’s gotta be really desperate, Louis, so – I love you, but, like, you’re kind of being, like. A – jerk.”

Louis looked offended for a minute, and Harry bit his lip, but a twinkle appeared in Louis’ eyes before he could worry too much. “Were you just about to call me a twat?” He asked incredulously, throwing his head back to laugh as he struggled into his boxers. 

Harry blushed. “I - _no_ ,” he said defensively, even though the word had crossed his mind. Louis knew him too well, though, and just laughed harder, and Harry scowled. “But it fits,” he said petulantly, pouting at being laughed at. He threw a shirt at Louis, smirking when it hit him in the face. “Call your friend,” he commanded, ignoring the squirming in his stomach from trying to lay down the law with Louis. “Tonight.”

\---

“I should probably go,” Louis groaned from his seat at the table. “Thanks, Anne; dinner was _incredible_.”

Harry smiled as his mum blushed and looked down at the table for a second. “Oh, it’s fine,” she said, waving him away.

Louis leaned over and kissed Harry’s cheek. “Have fun with Niall,” he said, and Harry blushed and nodded to hide his frown.

“Say hi to the girls for me,” he mumbled, and Louis promised he would, grabbed his things, and left. 

Harry’s head dropped even more when his mum turned to look at him, her eyebrows raised. “You’re hanging out with Niall?” She asked. Harry didn’t answer. “Must be hard, since Maura let me know he would be in Salisbury, with his grandmother for the weekend.” Harry didn’t answer; just scooped another bite of mashed potatoes into his mouth. “Is Liam driving you up there? Oh. Right. Liam’s on a date, didn’t you tell me that? Hmmm.”

Harry’s ears burned as he tried to avoid the disappointed face of his mother, not wanting to face her accusations. Finally, though, the silence got to him, and he spoke up. “I didn’t lie to him,” he mumbled.

“No?” Anne asked mildly. “Are you walking to Salisbury, then? Get a move on; you’ll be late.”

Harry sighed. “No, I – I said I was going out, and – Louis asked with Niall, right? And then you called and said dinner was done, so I just – like, didn’t answer.”

Anne sighed at him. “Harry, that’s dishonest, too, you know.”

“Mum, you’re supposed to be on _my_ side!” Harry complained. “I’m – I was gonna _tell him_ , just – not tonight. He’s tired. And he needs to see his sisters and mum.” Anne just stared at him, and he sighed, pushing his plate back and putting his head down on the desk. “I know,” he mumbled. Still, he got out his phone and texted Zayn his address.

\---

“Turn here,” Harry said softly. The car ride had been quiet, when Harry had brought a little plastic bag full of scrunched up slips of papers. They’d stopped at a convenient store for one last thing Harry needed, blushing when he got back into the car with a bag. Two Bic lighters were inside it, and Zayn laughed.

“You know I smoke, right?” He teased. “Could’ve just used mine; no need to spend money on those. You’ll probably never even use ‘em again, right?”

Harry shifted uncomfortably. “We – there’s, like, a lot. To burn. I didn’t want to use up your lighter,” he said, and Zayn didn’t answer. Neither had spoken since.

But Zayn turned right and then pulled over, along the bank of a tiny little creek not many people knew about. 

“My mum used to bring me here to play, when I had a rough day,” Harry said quietly. “I used to, like, be afraid to be around lots of people, so parks didn’t really work out for me? But she insisted I have time outside, so. She’d bring me here.” 

“She sounds nice,” Zayn offered after a moment’s silence.

Harry nodded, and then sighed. “Look,” he said quietly. “There’s – something I should probably, like. Tell you. Just so you don’t – think I’m crazy, or something.” He took a shaky breath, and Zayn focused on his steering wheel, so Harry didn’t have to look at him. Harry appreciated it. “When I was a kid, I was – like, my dad, erm. Abused me. A lot.” He heard Zayn swallow, but pressed on. “I won’t – I mean, I don’t want to go into detail, but, like, basically, it was really bad, and it – it still, like, _affects_ me, a lot, right, and I – got a letter saying he’s getting out soon, this last weekend, and I kind of went crazy? Like, all over Louis, I felt really bad after, but I – he told me about – erm, it’s like, casting spirits, or something? And I –”

“Casting demons,” Zayn interrupted solemnly, nodding when Harry swallowed. “Yeah, me and Louis used to do it together, at his fountain. I was his lookout, to make sure he didn’t get caught.”

Harry swallowed. Zayn helped Louis cast demons. Fitting. “Right,” he said shakily. “Well, I – erm. I need to do that, now. …And I love Louis, I do, a whole lot, and he’s _great_ at helping me out, and, like, stuff, but I – I can’t do this with him. ‘Cause – ‘cause he’s, you know. Going away, eventually, right, to school, and as much as I love him, I can’t keep depending on him. Not, like, all the way, at least.”

Zayn nodded. “So, I’m guessing I’m not about to be your lookout, am I?” He asked, and Harry blushed. 

“I – no. I mean, you don’t have to, but I was – kind of, like, hoping you’d – just. Stay with me? You don’t have to do anything,” he added in a rush. “Like you don’t have to comfort me or anything stupid, I just ne-”

“Don’t be stupid, Harry; if you need comforting, I’ll fucking comfort you, I’m not an asshole.” He paused. “Most of the time,” he added reluctantly, making Harry laugh a tiny bit.

“Right,” he said, suddenly shy. He picked up his bag of papers and lighters and took a deep breath. “Right,” he repeated. “Are you – are you ready?” He asked Zayn, who nodded and wordlessly got out of the car, locking the doors when Harry’s was shut. 

They made their way down to the creek, and Harry sat down. Zayn took a seat next to him, close enough for comfort but far away enough for personal space. 

“Do you know how to do it?” Zayn asked, and Harry looked at him, confused.

“You just – light it on fire, right?” He mumbled, feeling stupid when Zayn shook his head.

“No, you – Louis’ shit at explaining things, my God – you have to, like…whatever you wrote on the paper, you have to think about it really hard. Feel it. You can even read it, if it helps. Sometimes Louis would, if it was stuff he was really upset about. And then you light it on fire, you just – imagine that problem’s going up in flames, too. That part of your brain that still hurts? Gone. Up in smoke. And when the paper’s gone, you have to tell yourself so is that pain. That little, tiny bit of pain won’t hurt you anymore, ‘cause you’ve casted it down in the water, and demons can’t swim. They deal in fire.”

Harry took in the information and nodded, pulling a lighter out of the plastic. He flicked it once, shifted, and pulled out a piece of paper from the bag. 

_14). Gray eyes._

Harry shuddered and took a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth as he made himself picture his dad’s eyes. The second he recalled them, fear spiked deep in his belly, and he gasped out loud, “Gray eyes.” 

Quickly, he held the paper up and struggled with the catch of the lighter to set it aflame, and held onto it for as long as he could, feeling heat in his stomach – a different kind of heat than he’d ever felt before – sit and boil. Tears pricked at his eyes, though he held them back, and he yelped when he felt the flame burning his thumb and index finger. He dropped the burning paper, and by the time it hit the water, it was crumbled and black, the last few embers dying out with a hiss. Harry took a deep breath and let the feeling in his stomach settle.

“Again,” Zayn commanded softly, and Harry looked over at him and nodded, reaching into his bag. 

_29). All male teachers make me nervous._

This time, Harry made sure to hold it at the very top corner, stretching his arm up as far as possible so when he dropped it, the last bit of it would crumble and burn as well.

“Again.”

_2). I don’t have a dad anymore._

Harry let the tears fall down his face this time, wiping them with the back of his wrist as his other hand held the corner of the slip of paper. Zayn scooted infinitesimally closer, and whispered, “Again.”

_13). You made my mum tougher than she had to be._

A sob escaped Harry’s mouth when the last of that slip burned, and Zayn pressed a hand on Harry’s knee gently. “Let it go, Harry,” he said, and then, “Again.” 

_43). I can’t get a hand job without crying._

Harry’s jaw locked as his stomach clenched around his dinner in anger, and a strange sound escaped his mouth, but Zayn’s hand stayed on his knee. 

“Again.”

Over and over and over again, Harry burned the papers until the bag was empty. “I’m proud of you, Harry,” Zayn murmured, but Harry shook his head.

“Again,” he said. Putting his foot on the bag so it didn’t blow away, Harry picked out a slip of paper he kept in his pocket.

_88). I love you._

Harry swallowed against the dizzy feeling in his head and stomach, and looked to Zayn. “I – I don’t think I can do it,” he whispered, tears pulling up again as he swallowed, lips quivering already.

Zayn squeezed his knee, his hazel eyes firm. “You _can_ , mate,” he said. “You’ve done so good, man, I don’t even know how many you burned, but it was so many, and you made it through all of them. You can do this last one.”

Harry shook his head and swallowed, showing Zayn what it said. 

“Oh,” he said dumbly, and Harry started crying.

Zayn’s phone went off in his pocket, and he pulled it out, but set it down next to him on the grass. “Come here,” he murmured instead, patting his lap.

Harry ignored the invitation to lay down in Zayn’s lap, but he shuffled closer and leaned awkwardly on Zayn’s shoulder, appreciating it when Zayn wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Harry tucked his face in Zayn’s shirt, sobbing and trying to keep his nose clean so it didn’t dirty the fabric.

“I’m so – so - _angry_ that I _love him_!” Harry shrieked, sobbing heavier when he felt Zayn wince around him.

Suddenly, Zayn’s phone started ringing, and Zayn when stiff. “ _Shit_ ,” he said with a gasp.

Harry sat up, about to ask what was wrong, but saw _Louis_ flashing on Zayn’s screen. “Answer it,” he urged, moving back a bit and trying to stifle his crying, so he could focus on the call.

Looking nervous, Zayn answered his phone. “Hello?” Zayn sat up straight, looking at Harry with dread. “Oh, I – erm – I meant Stan. _Liam_ , I meant Liam… I - _fuck_ , mate, listen, I can explain it! …Actually –” Zayn sighed, bringing up his knees and resting his forehead on them. “Shit. I actually can’t, mate, there’s a reason we – Louis, _please_ , mate, you’ve got to listen to me, this is seriously – I – not right now, not – I’m not alone, I –” Zayn looked up at Harry, who was watching with dread growing in his stomach as he watched Zayn get more and more upset. “Wants to know where we are,” Zayn whispered, hand over the mouthpiece. 

Harry’s heart dropped through his stomach. Louis knew Harry was with Zayn. Dread gave way to defeat, and he nodded. “Tell him,” he sighed, feeling his throat constricting again, like he was about to fall into tears. _Stupid emotions_. Harry’s fists clenched as he heard Zayn tell Louis where they were.

“Hidden Creek. Hidden – yeah, the creek. Erm, I dunno, maybe an hour, hour and a half? I don’t – Lou? Louis?” Zayn looked at his phone and sighed. “ _Fuck_ ,” he groaned, dropping it to the ground.

“He hung up on you,” Harry said. It wasn’t a question; he knew Louis’ temper.

“Yeah.”

“He’s coming here,” Harry added. That wasn’t a question, either. He knew Louis’ temper.

“…Yeah.”

“Crap.”

“Basically,” Zayn said with a bitter laugh, and Harry laid back in the grass, staring up at the sky, turning hues of purple and red and blue from the sun setting already. 

They waited in silence until they heard Louis’ tires screeching on the bank, digging into the softened mud. A door slammed and Harry heard Louis’ furious voice yelling. “Zayn?! Harry?!”

Harry swallowed, but couldn’t answer, and Zayn did it for him. “Down here, Louis,” he called, sounding like he’d given up. Harry continued staring at the sky.

He heard footsteps, and then they stopped, but Harry couldn’t bring himself to look. “Harry?” Louis asked, and then his voice grew harsh. “What’d you do to him?!” He snarled at Zayn. 

“Louis, are you fucking _mad_?” Zayn answered back indignantly. “I wouldn’t hurt him! Shit, mate, you think I’ve changed _that much_ just because I made _one_ asshole comment about him once? Shit, I apologized – to _everyone_ , and Harry’s forgiven me, and it was _about him_! Why can’t you just fucking forgive me?!” Zayn’s voice moved from angry to almost desperate the longer he spoke, and Harry sat up as Zayn answered, not wanting to cause another rift or make it worse between the two.

Louis stared at Zayn and then moved to Harry, who swallowed nervously when he kneeled in front of him. “Baby. Baby, are you alright?” Louis asked, brushing the dirt and grass from Harry’s face and hair. 

Harry knew Louis must be seeing the puffiness of his eyes from crying earlier, but Harry nodded anyway. He watched as relief flooded Louis’ face, only to be swiftly replaced by fury. Harry’s breathing kicked up in reflex. “Please don’t be mad at me,” he whispered, but Louis was already turning around at Zayn.

“We’re going to talk,” he said, and the words were a promise, but they sounded more like a threat. “But not right now. I’m going to take Harry home, and then I’m going to come back here, and we’re going to talk. Put it all out on the table. If I were you, I’d take the time it takes for me to get Harry home and get back here very seriously, and think about what you want to say, because I’m not holding back my fists anymore, not about him.”

Zayn nodded, and Harry felt horrible for the look on his face, but Louis whipped around and Harry’s eyes grew wide as he saw the look on Louis’ face – complete emptiness. “Come on, Harry,” he said softly, standing and holding out a hand to help Harry up. Harry took the hand, forgetting about the bag underneath his foot, and let Louis pull him up. He put his hand in his pocket while Louis pulled the other one, leading him up the bank and to his car. Harry looked back at Zayn, who tried to smile reassuringly at him. Harry swallowed and turned back around.

He mumbled, “Thank you,” when Louis opened the door for him. He sat in the seat and buckled up, staring silently at his lap the entire ride home. Louis didn’t say a word, and his driving was impeccable.

When Louis pulled up at Harry’s driveway, Harry didn’t move, and neither did Louis. Louis kept the engine running, though, so Harry coughed and eventually unbuckled.

“I think we need to break up,” Louis said, his hands tight on the wheel and his voice coming out strained.

Harry stared at him in shock, silent until Louis looked over at him. “You can’t do that,” Harry said dumbly. Surely, Louis couldn’t just _break up with him_. Relationships didn’t work like that, right? Harry was pretty sure they didn’t. There probably was, like, a vote, or something. A vote from the community, and if everyone said they should break up, then they’d break up…but if the majority said no, then… Harry could campaign, and Liam and Niall and maybe Zayn would help him make a float to drive around the town square or something, and –

Louis made some odd sound, and his voice was thick when he said, “Harry, I can… I just. Think it’s best if we stop seeing each other.”

That wasn’t right. “Is there someone else?” Harry asked, fighting the quiver at his mouth.

“God – _no_ , Harry,” Louis blurted, frustrated. “There’s no one else. You’re good enough. I love you very much. I’m not tired of you. I don’t have an STD. It’s nothing about that. I just…” Louis took a deep breath. “How can I trust you while I’m miles away in college if I can’t trust you when I’m halfway across town and lie to my face?”

The words hit Harry like a brick wall, and he nodded dazedly. “Well,” he said, swallowing. “Well, that makes sense.” He pulled the seatbelt away from his body and opened the door mechanically, climbing out. He shut the door and stood, staring through the window of Louis’ car. Louis watched him stand there for a few moments, shook his head, and then peeled off down the street, not even stopping at the stop sign at its end. 

Feeling numb, Harry turned to walk back into his house, sticking his hands in his pockets to steel them from the chill. Feeling something jabbing at his fingers, Harry pulled it from his pocket, smoothing it out to look.

_88). I love you._


	39. Part 38.

Louis slammed on the brakes, tires squelching in the mud of the bank. He killed the engine and tore out of the car, slamming the door shut. “Zayn!” He shouted as he walked down the tiny slope. 

Zayn scrambled up to stand, and walked towards Louis with his hands out in surrender. “Look, be pissed off all you want, but hear me out because seriously, this is important,” he rushed. 

Louis stopped his threatening march and stood a few feet away from. He crossed his arms and waited impatiently, fuming silently.

Zayn took a deep breath. “Okay,” he said, stepping closer. “So, like. Dad works with Mark, right? And I went and visited him in his office a few days ago, and Mark was in there, and my dad sounded really upset, and I heard Mark say –” Zayn hesitated and then looked at the ground. “He said, ‘faggot son’, mate.”

Louis swallowed. “What are you talking about?” He said, trying to hold on to his anger. “Mark thinks I’m dating Eleanor.”

But Zayn shook his head. “No, Louis, I’m _telling you_. He doesn’t. I think he knows about Harry, too.”

“Impossible,” Louis said, shrugging, though he knew Zayn wouldn’t lie to him no matter what. Anxiety started curling in his belly. “When Harry met him, he said his name was Liam. Mark doesn’t know either of them.”

Zayn growled in frustration. “Then tell me why when Mark left, my dad asked me if I knew a bloke named Harry Styles, or if _you_ knew him and if you two were together!” He nearly yelled. “I’m trying to _help_ , Louis, so stop being a stubborn asshole just because you’re pissed off at me!” 

Louis stared at Zayn after the second outburst in as many hours. Zayn never was one for emotional displays, and though he’d always been moody, he was never overly emotional or short-tempered. Louis swallowed tightly. “Zayn, I –”

“I get it, you know?” Zayn interrupted, looking at Louis. “Wanting to protect someone. Feeling like you need to shelter them from everything bad in the world. And not like it’s a _job_ , but like you truly, intrinsically _need_ to shelter them. I get it. I do. And maybe that feeling is different for Harry and you than it is for, like, my sisters and me, because I never felt it for someone other than family, but I _do_ get it. I get why you’re still so pissed off at me. Harry’s your boy. He’s your boy, and you can’t let him be hurt or disrespected, and I did that. I hurt and disrespected him, and then he got in the car with me and forgave me faster than you could, and it makes you angry, ‘cause you’re upset about having to be upset with me but Harry doesn’t have to be, because he’s allowed because he’s your boy. And _now_ , he’s sneaking off without you and he’s hiding it from you. But Louis, you – do you know how _guilty_ he felt?” 

Louis looked away from Zayn’s eyes, pleading Harry’s case when he didn’t need to. He swallowed and looked at the ground. “Shut up,” he whispered.

But Zayn kept going. “I thought he was gonna call the entire thing off when I picked him up, Lou. He was like, _shaking_ with guilt.”

“Shut up,” Louis said a little louder, but Zayn still continued.

“He loves you more than fucking life itself, man, but he’s scared shitless about it. About how dependent he is on you, how you’re going off to school and he’s terrified y-”

“ _Shut up_!” Louis yelled, shoving Zayn away from him. He followed, pushing Zayn away and following each time, yelling out wordlessly at all of the overwhelming emotions he was feeling all at once. “Stop! Just _stop it_! I don’t _care_! I don’t, I’m _leaving him_! I’m leaving! I’m going!” He cried, sobs suddenly mixing in as he pushed Zayn weakly. 

Zayn caught Louis’ wrists and pulled him in, yanking him to his chest and wrapping his arms around Louis’ back tightly. He buried his nose in Louis’ hair while Louis cried and beat his fists against Zayn’s chest, and they sank to the grass together.

“Shh,” Zayn soothed while Louis cried, letting ugly-sounding sobs drown out the screaming in his head. “It’s okay, Lou,” Zayn murmured, rocking a bit side to side and patting Louis’ back. “He knows you love him.”

The words sent a stab of dejection through him, and he cried harder, leaving Zayn bewildered. 

“He doesn’t,” he said thickly when Zayn calmed him down enough for speech. “He doesn’t _know_ , Z, I just broke up with him!”

Zayn went still and quiet, and Louis tucked his head again and fisted at Zayn’s shirt. “Oh, _Lou_ ,” Zayn gasped sadly, pulling him in closer. “Oh, Louis. …That’s okay. It’ll be alright. You’re okay, man, it’s all gonna be fine.”

Zayn sat with Louis quietly, letting Louis think on his own for a bit until he murmured, “He said he’s afraid of depending on you to do stuff with him, ‘cause you’ll be so far away. He tried to make it sound like he was saying he needed someone else, too, but it was so obvious. He just doesn’t want to hold you back, Lou. …He really loves you, and I don’t – I get why, you’re mad at him. You have the right. He shouldn’t have lied to you. But can you see it? Like, from his side? You wouldn’t have been happy about him going in the first place, and other than that, like, he’s trying to get himself ready for when you’re gone, man. That’s _all_. He’s not trying to _replace_ you. Just – he realizes he has to be able to be without you, if he wants to be _with_ you.”

Louis nodded wordlessly. “I just don’t know if that’s enough,” he whispered, and Zayn went quiet.

“You’re not breaking up with him over this, are you,” Zayn guessed flatly.

Louis shook his head. “I don’t know,” he answered. “I just – it’s so _confusing_ , it’s like – everything is so _intense_ with him, you know? Like not – it’s nothing his _fault_ , it’s just how it _feels_. Like if I love him, I _really fucking love_ him. If he ticks me off, I’m furious. If he does something cute, I adore him. Stuff like that, and I just – I don’t know how to…control that, and I just. Went and opened my fat mouth and spouted off shit about not trusting him off at college if I can’t across town.” Louis shook his head, disgusted with himself. “Who even _does_ that? What kind of man am I meant to be? I can’t even control myself at all.”

Zayn stayed thoughtful and finally asked, “Well, what about the sex?”

Louis’ head jerked up to look at him. “Are you fucking kidding me right now, man?” He demanded.

Zayn laughed and eased back. “That’s not what I meant, Louis,” he rolled his eyes. “I just mean – I’ve seen Harry with lovebites and stuff. Both of you. So you do _some_ stuff, yeah? But not everything.” He didn’t wait for Louis to acknowledge it. “So you have _a little bit_ of control over yourself. Why can’t you control your emotions the way you control your dick?”

Louis didn’t know how to answer his question. “I never thought about it like that,” he said bluntly. “It was, like, ‘get away from this intensity while you can, dumbass’.”

Zayn sighed. “When’d you have this freak-out?” He asked suddenly.

Louis looked up at the nearly-black sky. “A few days ago, Harry got a letter from – he kinda had a shit childhood, and Harry got a letter, bringing everything up. Completely lost his shit. Went crazy, man. Well. First night, he just got sick. Cried, threw up, and then slept. But the next morning, he just…it was awful. I – Zayn, all I could think, that whole time, was like, ‘I should’ve been there, I should’ve stopped it, I’m sorry I let that happen to you’.”

“Wasn’t your fault, Lou,” Zayn murmured, but Louis interrupted him. 

“And you know, the thing is, like. That’s really shitty of me. To – to turn it around, like that. I shouldn’t be the one he comforts. His pain isn’t about me. His shit with his past is about him. But the – thing that made me nervous, is just. Through it all, I was thinking of anything I could do to make him feel better. I probably would’ve sold my own sisters into the ring to make him happy, if he asked, Zayn, and I’m – shit, I’m going to college! I’m going away. It’s not – it’s not right for me to do that. To give him any and everything and then just disappear, maybe get a few calls and Skypes in here and there. That’s shit, too. That’s really shitty of me, and _for_ me, and for him, too. I don’t want to have this incredible relationship, only to have it beat to death once I’m gone. I don’t think I could look at myself in the mirror everyday knowing I hurt him, over and over again until we finally just broke up. You know? That’s shitty of me.”

“You’re right,” Zayn said. Louis looked up at him. “It’s shit to hurt him. So, tell me, what do you think he’s doing right now? Sitting in his room, crying? Or, well, probably hasn’t even got over the shock to start crying yet, huh? Yeah. Probably just sitting at a table or something, just staring. Thinking. Wondering. _In pain_. Come on, Lou. Don’t be stupid. You could slap that boy across the face and he’d be elated, and probably’d ask for another. You ignore him, he’ll just try harder and eventually, that’d make you get your shit together faster than anything else. You and Harry aren’t some stupid movie. And, like, if you don’t make it, you don’t make it, but this is the first time you’ve ever been in love, and you’re acting like a coward, running from it, ‘cause you don’t know how to deal with having _intense feelings_ – and yet at the same time, you’re worried about what kind of man you’ll be. Do you really want to be the coward who runs from shit when it gets intense? ‘Cause, no offense, I love you, but that sounds like the kind of man who gets his high school girlfriend pregnant and splits when he realizes it’s really gonna happen.”

Louis’ mouth opened and shut a few times, still processing what Zayn was insinuating. “I’m not my father,” he said finally, and Zayn shook his head.

“You’re right,” he said, “you’re not. You’re better than the guy who knocked your mum up and left. So start acting like it.” Zayn stood up, dusting off the back of his jeans, and looked down at Louis, still on the ground. “It’s late, Lou; I’m gonna go home. You should, too. Think about all this, yeah?” He started to walk away, and Louis watched him, but he paused before he reached the top of the slope. “I hope we’re good again. I’ve missed you.” 

Louis sat in the grass while the creek rushed around gently next to him, listening as Zayn’s car drove away and left him alone with his thoughts. 

Louis didn’t want to break up with Harry. He hadn’t meant to. If it were anyone else, he would’ve. He was big on trust. But Louis _knew_ , when he left Harry, that his boyfriend wasn’t really hanging out with Niall. It was just a weird gut feeling, like the feeling when you realize you’ve forgotten something at home but can’t remember what. 

Louis didn’t like it – knowing Harry wasn’t being honest with him – but couldn’t bring himself to really be all that upset because Harry had never lied without a reason. Sure, the reasons were always infuriating to Louis, but Harry was a product partly of his past, regardless of how well Anne had raised him after Des had done his damage, and Harry didn’t like upsetting Louis ‘unnecessarily’. Louis could understand that, even though he didn’t agree.

Louis had questions he needed answering, but more than that, he felt the pull in his heart of needing to see Harry. He’d grown accustomed to it, but this time, it was ferocious, and Louis couldn’t stamp it down – it demanded to be felt. 

In a flash, Louis was in his car, speeding through town. 

When he pulled to a stop in front of Harry’s house, he looked up and saw Harry’s light was on, and a glance at the clock told him it was only half past eight. He killed the engine and hopped out of the car, slamming the door shut and walking up to the door.

And then he hesitated.

What if Harry didn’t want to talk to him? Louis had just broken up with him. He was probably really upset with Louis. And _Anne_. If she had any idea, she’d probably want Louis’ head on a platter.

Louis shook himself and swallowed. Harry was worth it. He had to try. 

He knocked on the door.

After what felt like an hour of waiting and getting no response, he knocked again. And then rang the doorbell for good measure.

Anne pulled open the door and looked surprised to see him. Her expression quickly morphed into one of disapproval, and Louis’ heart sank. She already knew, then.

“Look, I know,” Louis rushed before Anne could even speak. “I know, I messed up, but I’m going to fix it. I really – can I come in? I _swear_ , I just want to talk to him. I’ll go home tonight if you want me to, I don’t even mind.” He swallowed, begging Anne with his eyes, his hands folded together in front of him like he was praying. “ _Please_ ,” he said again.

Anne sighed. “Louis, I love you,” she said quietly, looking at the ceiling like Harry would be able to hear through it. “Like another son, you know? And I like your mum. She’s a dear friend of mine. But if you leave my son in tears one more time, don’t expect to come back. Ever.” She moved out of the way and watched as Louis stepped in, delicately trying to keep space between them in the narrow hallway. “You get one hour,” she called behind him.

Louis nodded, heart pounding, and raced up the stairs. He burst through Harry’s door and saw his boy on his bed, doing his math homework and looking calm as ever, save a slight case of the puffy-eyes. Harry looked up from his work and looked only vaguely surprised to see him, and though it puzzled Louis, he didn’t have time to think it out.

Rushing over, Louis sat on Harry’s bed and grabbed his hands in his own, letting them rest on Harry’s math book. “Harry, I’m so sorry,” he said, swallowing hard. “I don’t want to break up. That was just my stupid fat mouth talking before I could think. I didn’t mean it. I want to be with you forever if I can, so I really need you to forgive me and take me back so I can do that.”

Harry cracked a smile and pulled his hands from Louis. Louis’ heart sank momentarily, but he saw Harry was only packing his homework away, and then Louis was holding his breath as Harry climbed slowly into his lap. “Okay,” Harry said, wrapping his arms around Louis’ back. “Consider it done. ‘M all yours.”

Louis wrapped his arms around Harry’s back. “That’s it?” He asked in surprise. “I tell you to take me back and you say _okay_?”

Harry laughed a tiny bit in Louis’ ear before he pulled back, tracing Louis’ cheek with a thumb. “It took me a good half hour to get done crying,” he admitted, “but then it just…stopped feeling real. I knew you loved me too much to just…let me go, like that. And maybe it won’t be the same when you actually _do_ move, but now?” He shook his head simply. “It just didn’t feel like a thing that you could actually make happen, if I’m honest. Just…I mean, I’m – I’m _yours_ , you know? Sometimes it feels like I’m just as much yours as I am, like, my _mum’s_ , or something. And no matter how mad she could get, I’d never stop being her son, right? …Kind of feels like that with you, too.”

Louis swallowed tightly and rested his forehead against Harry’s. “Hazza,” he breathed. “Why didn’t you just _tell me_ you weren’t going with Niall?” 

Harry closed his eyes sadly, and when he opened them, they were filled with regret. “I’m sorry I lied to you,” he said quietly, shaking his head, “but you would’ve been mad, and I – I know you never try to take advantage of me, right? But – but basically, like…I do what you want? For the most part, if we talk it out first. And I knew you would want me to not go with Zayn, and I – knew you’d come up with some agreement, or something, and it wouldn’t really be what I needed. I – I just needed Zayn to do it with me,” he explained, looking like it pained him to admit needing someone other than Louis.

Louis felt the same way. 

“But I don’t _get_ it, Harry,” he said, pulling back to look at him. “Why couldn’t you have gone with Niall or Liam? Or, you know. _Me_?”

Harry smiled sadly. “I was doing that ‘casting demons’ thing. It was…really emotional. …Niall would feel awful for me. He doesn’t do well with negativity, in general. Liam…Liam wouldn’t approve, and he _definitely_ would just coddle me, treat me like a baby, and I didn’t need that. And anyway,” he added with an eye roll, “they were both busy.” Harry looked Louis in the eye with another sad smile and said, “And…I love you. You’ve done not a single thing wrong, like, ever, dealing with stuff about my dad, so don’t start thinking that, or anything. It was genuinely just – I can’t always _depend_ on you.”

Louis pulled back, feeling hurt. “You can depend on me for _anything_ , Harry,” he said defensively. 

“But that’s the thing!” Harry said in frustration. “I _can’t_ , because what if the next time I need you for something like this, you’re halfway across the country in the middle of a psychology 101 lecture? I have to – Lou, I know you have problems with Zayn, but I have to be able to have friends to count on without you getting upset about it, you know? And Zayn – Zayn’s my friend, now. And he helped me, like a lot. _Really_.”

Louis felt incredibly stupid all of a sudden. It was never a matter of insecurity with Zayn – he knew Harry would never do anything with Zayn, and knew Zayn would never do anything remotely questionable with Harry – but he wasn’t sure exactly what else it could have been, either. Louis sighed, finding himself a little choked up, feeling like he’d let Harry down. “I never meant to – suffocate you, or whatever,” he told Harry. “I just wanted to protect you. I – I have to protect you, Harry.” Louis looked into Harry’s eyes and chewed his lip for a moment before he cupped Harry’s cheek in his hand. “I don’t think you realize how important you are to me. I – I’d be shattered if you went out and got hurt – in _any_ way, and it was something I could’ve prevented. But I understand, I do. I’d be really upset if you started having a problem with me going and talking to Stan, or something,” he admitted reluctantly, and Harry smiled a little. Louis took a deep breath. “No more, alright? I’ll stop being too overbearing, if you stop hiding stuff like that. You can go out with whoever you want, and if I have a problem, I’ll just suck it up, okay?”

Harry huffed. “That’s _not_ what I want, Louis,” he complained, catching Louis’ attention and confusion. Upon seeing Louis’ furrowed brow, he expanded. “I – I don’t want to do things that will upset you. If going out with Zayn alone really upsets you that much, then, like, fine. We’ll compromise. I’ll tell you when I go out with him, and invite Liam, or we’ll hang out somewhere public, and I’ll tell you – something like that. Remember, we said we’d communicate more, right?” Louis nodded. “So, we will. You need to work on being more relaxed and stuff, sure, but I need to work on talking about things and communicating them, even when I know you won’t like them.”

Louis nodded slowly. “Okay,” he said, feeling relieved. “I – yeah. That sounds like something we can work on.” 

Harry smiled and pulled himself close, tucking his head into Louis’ neck and holding him tight. “Good,” he whispered against Louis’ skin, making Louis shiver.

Louis wrapped his arms around Harry’s back, rubbing over the fabric of his shirt. “So, are we – are we okay? Back together, done with our lame fighting, and stuff? If you need a few days to think on it, I can give you space. Just know I’m so genuinely sorry for hurting you like that.”

Harry scratched lightly at the hairs cut short at the back of Louis’ head. “Gotta stop worrying so much about me, babe,” he mumbled. “A little is fine – good – but I’ll never find someone I want more’n you, you know. And I wouldn’t hang out with someone if I felt unsafe.” Louis nodded, hugging Harry tighter. “But, no,” Harry continued softly. “I don’t need time.” Harry pulled back, brushing Louis’ cheeks with his thumbs, and smiled. “I know what I want,” he declared solidly, and closed his lips around Louis’ softly.


	40. Part 39.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd just like to take just a second and explain some stuff, because there's been soooo much confusion and I'd like to clear it up a bit!  
> -I am NOT on hiatus, and don't plan on going on hiatus. I'm not leaving, I'm not 'quitting' fanfic writing, I still love Larry and One Direction in general. I love all of you guys, I am thankful for all of you guys, and always will be.  
> -For the past three, four-ish months, I have been working three jobs. I have been going to school as a journalism major. I started (and ended) a relationship with someone. My family received short-notice orders to move, so we've been packing up a two-story, five-bedroom house with a 4yr old in the way and my older siblings coming and going sporadically.  
> -For those of you who've been reading/following me for a gooooood while now, you may know tragedy struck my family in the form of losing someone very important to me. My family and I are all still struggling with it, and I've reached a point where I think it's about as good as it's gonna get for me, and that on its own is very hard for me to have weighing on my heart. Preparing for this move has been very emotional. I have packed up more baby-girl belongings than any person should have to unless that baby girl has outgrown them - and mine certainly had not outgrown them. Similarly, as ready as I am to move, because this place has brought little more than heartache for me and my family, it means leaving behind the only place I had my sister in. It means facing the fact that I am going to move on without her, face my life and the rest of the world, without the most wonderful human being by my side, as she should be. The only bit of my sister I have left is a baby blanket that no longer smells like her. For someone who saved my life, that is not nearly enough. 
> 
> All of this being said, I am very sorry for not posting for two months. It HAS pained me to be away from my writing so much, but between working three jobs, going to school (and writing paper after paper after paper), dealing with my family, a short-lived relationship, and preparing to move, I haven't had it in me, whether I could focus or not. I hope you all will forgive me, and I hope you all have stuck with me. A good number of you have reached out to me over the past few years, and I will forever be grateful for your loyalty and kindness. I love you all.  
> -Kota.

Harry stood in the front doorway, waving into the dark as Louis’ car pulled away before shutting it and locking it tight. 

He turned around and sighed to himself a little when he saw his mum watching him with hawk eyes, and walked past her to lock up the back door and make sure the windows to the kitchen were shut from the still-present March chill. 

“So, you’re back together?” Anne asked, a little sharply, and Harry bit his lip and nodded.

“We – he didn’t mean it, Mum,” he said softly, trying to reason with her. “He just – it’s been a long weekend, is all –”

“Why?” Anne interrupted, a little more concerned-sounding. “What happened this weekend?”

Harry bit his lip, eyes closing briefly. He’d forgotten he hadn’t told his mum yet. 

Anne read his silence. “Ice cream?” She asked, and Harry laughed a little to himself. 

“Yeah, please,” he said. “Rocky Road-level, I think.”

Looking conflicted, Anne hurried to the freezer while Harry walked into the living room and sat on the couch, pulling the ugly afghan down to cover his knees, curling up so his mum would have some blanket, too. Anne returned quickly and handed him the bucket, sitting under the blanket with him as he took a first spoonful. 

In quiet, they shared the ice cream, and when Harry was ready to talk about it, he put his spoon down and curled up a little tighter, Anne doing the same. “D-Dad wrote me a letter,” Harry said finally, quietly. 

Anne’s eyes widened. “What,” she whispered, her voice a little faint. 

“It was in the letters you put in the football bags?” Harry tried to recall her memory. “From Wichita State Prison, or whatever – I guess he got moved, from having so many problems? – and – and the, erm, restraining order-thing you put on him only lasted five years, and, like. It’s been more than that. I dunno how he found us, but…yeah. …Mum?”

Harry’s mum looked like she was about to be sick as she stared at the ice cream bucket on the coffee table, two spoons sticking up from the ice cream. At her name being called, she looked over at Harry, and he was horrified to see tears in her eyes as she brought her hands to his face. “My baby,” she whispered, sounding heartbroken.

“Mum, I’m f-”

“I don’t know what I did wrong,” she said, pulling Harry close. Harry had to shift up onto his knees to go with her pulling, and ended up squashed against her chest as she rocked him like a child. “How –”

“ _Mum_ ,” Harry said loudly, pulling away just a little bit to meet her eyes. He took her face in his own hands, staring at her hard, the way Louis had done to him. “I’m _fine_ , alright?” He said firmly, gaze flickering side to side as he looked into her eyes and nodded. “I’m okay. It was – it was a rough weekend, but, like. I’m okay now.”

Tears still flowed down her cheeks, but Anne nodded and wiped her face off, nodding rapidly and pulling away a bit, still looking tense. “What did – what did it say?” She asked, staring at her son.

Harry swallowed. “He’s – he’s getting out early,” he admitted, and Anne gasped. “He wants me to – when he, like, gets a place, or whatever, I guess – he wants me to come over. For dinner, me and him.”

Anne gaped at him openly before she seemed to recover herself and sat up straight, wiping her smeared makeup and setting her mouth in a thin line as she took a shuddery breath. “Do you want to?” She asked, like she’d let him if he decided to.

“Are you insane?” Harry cried. “He – he _molested me_ , and _hit us_ , Mum! I’m hardly willing to go on a _dinner date_ with him!” Harry watched, a little bewildered, as his mum let out a breath of relief and nodded, instantly relaxing her posture, and he softened. “Mum, I’m – I’m still your boy, you know,” he murmured, watching her. “’M not _going_ anywhere, just ‘cause he’s _back_. Or – _will be_ , I guess.”

Anne nodded, giving Harry a watery smile, and picked up the ice cream, scooping up a huge spoonful and shoving it into her mouth. After swallowing it all, she asked, “How – how did you… What happened when you read it?”

Harry laughed a little bitterly. “I cried,” he admitted. “Got _really_ mad. And then cried a lot more. Played the best game of football of my life, though, so, like. _There’s_ a silver lining, if you really want one.”

Anne laughed humorlessly, and Harry bit his lip, helpless. “I’ll need a hundred silver linings, now he’s out, baby.”

Harry nodded, knowing how she felt. He took a deep breath, hesitated, and then said, “He – it’ll be, like, probation. He’ll have an ankle-thing, and he’ll have to meet with his parole officer regularly. It won’t be like he’s completely _free_ , or anything. He can’t just, like. He can’t come _get us_ , Mum. We’ll be fine. I’ll protect you, I swear.” Harry set his jaw and squared his shoulders before leaning forward to embrace his mother, who clung to him tightly for a brief minute, and then patted his shoulder before pulling back. 

“No, you’re right,” she said, her voice sounding off. “We’ll be fine.” Harry nodded slowly, watching her be still and quiet until she cleared her throat, making eye contact finally. “I’m – glad you and Louis are okay, now,” she said. “If you’re okay, I’ll just…” she trailed off, gesturing vaguely to the stairs, and Harry nodded, closing his eyes when she kissed his forehead before standing. Harry watched her go, feeling uneasy with the way she walked slowly up the stairs. 

He sat on the couch and picked up the ice cream his mum had left on the table, scooping some of it up for himself. When he started feeling vaguely sick from the amount of ice cream he’d eaten, he put it up and made his way up to his room, thinking back on the long night. 

On the way to his room, Harry heard a muffled sound coming from his mum’s room. Knowing he probably shouldn’t, Harry went to investigate, creeping quietly on the carpet in socked feet and pressing his hands and ear to his mother’s door.

“…did _everything_ I could, Robin! …You don’t _understand_ ; I just – … _He molested my son_ , Robin! …No, I – what _can_ I do? He’s his father, in every single way. …I can’t stop him. I don’t know – …It sounded like it’d go into effect _after_ he was released! …No, I already looked into it. I have to be able to prove he’s a threat to his safety… How could I? He’s not come in contact with Harry, has he? He hasn’t threatened him, has he? He’s just – If I know Des, he’s probably written a casually-sweet letter, probably explained the minor things and then…”

Harry swallowed when his mother’s voice faltered and she started sobbing uncontrollably. Robin must have started talking, because Harry didn’t hear anything until Anne moaned in heart-stopping despair, “How can I protect my baby boy?”

Harry swallowed tightly and walked to his room, shutting the door behind him.

\---

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Harry had successfully tuned out Louis on the phone with a client and the noises of the auto shop, but with a question directed at him, Harry’s ears picked up the sounds of the drills and air compressor as Andy and Paul worked on a carburetor. Louis was looking at Harry with mild concern. 

“King Richard the First,” Harry replied with a sigh, bending his neck to rest his head on Louis’ desk and pushing his history assignment aside.

Louis raised a brow.

“So, basically, Eleanor of Aquitaine got married to the Duke of Normandy, so then he was King Henry II of England, right – eight weeks after her first marriage got annulled, by the way – and they had eight kids together, but King Henry ended up being, like, a jerk, and they got all estranged and stuff and then some of their kids wanted to rebel. Henry – one of their sons – staged a revolt against the king, and Eleanor was, like, all for it, but then _King_ Henry found that out and threw her in jail and never let her out. Except _Richard_ , one of their _other sons_ \- they had five, and three daughters – eventually killed him, and then let her out and took care of her and stuff, since he’d killed King Henry II and he became the king. King Richard I, ‘Richard the Lionheart’. Like, he even let her act as regent when he went on the third Crusade; it was kind of crazy how well he took care of her.”

Harry bit his lip when Louis sighed and pushed the receptionist phone away a little. “Harry,” Louis began softly, taking Harry’s hands in his and searching his face, “you’ve been acting off all week, babe. What’s wrong? It’s not _us_ , is it?”

And Harry couldn’t even deny it. He’d been off the whole week, since he’d told his mum on Sunday about his dad’s letter. He hadn’t been able to focus a whole lot, except in football, and he’d kept making ridiculous excuses to not spend time with anyone aside from Louis – he just hadn’t felt in a social mood. And Louis had noticed, Harry knew, but Harry felt like Louis was waiting for Harry to broach the subject as part of their ‘complete honesty’ thing. 

Not wanting Louis to think they were having some phantom relationship problem, Harry shook his head. “No, of course not,” he said quickly, heart beating a little too fast before he grimaced. “I just – alright, so, I told my mum. About my – father’s letter, last weekend?” His heart sank when Louis frowned, and hadn’t realized he’d been hoping Louis would think he’d done the right thing – hadn’t realized he _himself_ wasn’t so sure he’d done the right thing in telling her. Harry shook his head. “I just – it felt like I should, at the time, and she’s…like, she’s been on the phone all the past week with lawyers and stuff in her room, trying to figure out something she can do to keep him away from us.” Harry’s lip quivered, though he tried to hide it, and took a shaky breath. “I don’t even think she was this bad when it _happened_ , Lou, and now she’s – she’s, like, _terrified_.” Harry chewed his lip while Louis watched, probably knowing Harry wasn’t done. “Not in front of me, or anything,” Harry added belatedly. “I mean, she’s – trying not to make me scared, I think, ‘cause she’s like. She acts kind’f fine when she’s around _me_ ; it’s just…I know she’s worried. And I wish I could help.”

Louis made a sympathetic sound from his throat and Harry’s eyes slipped shut when he felt Louis’ hand slipping through his hair. “I’m sorry, sweet baby,” Louis murmured. “I’m glad you told your mum, though,” he added like an offering, something to cheer Harry up with.

Harry’s eyes opened, though his head stayed on his arms. “You are?” He asked, surprised. “When I told you I told her, you looked all…frown-y,” he explained, feeling stupid and hopeful.

Louis laughed through his nose and folded his own arms, resting his head on them so his face was close to Harry’s, and Harry could see each eyelash. “Of course I’m glad you told her,” Louis said soothingly with a little smile. “It was smart to tell her; she’s your _mum_. Plus, she was victimized by your father, too. She has the right to know.”

Harry nodded, lips tugging down at the corners as he thought of his mum’s role in the whole thing all those years ago. “So why’d you look upset?” He asked to distract himself, nodding his head forward towards Louis.

Louis shrugged. “You were upset,” he said like it should’ve been obvious. “I don’t like when you’re upset. It upsets me.”

Harry grimaced. “Sorry,” he said, even though there wasn’t anything he could do about the situation. He closed his eyes and sighed a little dejectedly. 

When he felt lips pressing onto his arm and a nose nudging right above them, he opened his eyes and saw Louis looking up at him as he pressed another smooch to Harry’s forearm. “Love you, handsome boy,” he whispered, making Harry flush. 

“I love you, too,” he answered quietly, feeling shy. He watched Louis, and Louis watched him for a few minutes before he swallowed and whispered, “Can we – can we go to the Jungle once you get off?”

Louis answered with a small smile, nodding. “Of course,” he answered, pressing another kiss to Harry’s arm. “More stuff to talk about?”

Harry blushed, but met Louis’ eyes. “N-not really,” he admitted, trying to be as casual as possible. He blushed when Louis smirked, clearly seeing through his lie, but luckily, Louis didn’t say anything about it, and Harry returned to his history work while Andy swore in the background, Paul laughing as he watched his co-worker hopping around in pain from stubbing a foot on something.

\---

Harry sighed when Louis switched on the light, and immediately heard the Jungle soundtrack playing throughout the room, their bed waiting patiently for someone to rock in it. 

“Gets better every time, doesn’t it?” Louis asked with a grin, sounding less tense than he’d been in the past few weeks. 

Harry nodded. “It really does,” he agreed, and toed his shoes off to make his way over to the bed. “Come with me?” He requested, barely tugging at Louis’ hand before Louis was following willingly. 

Louis helped Harry up onto the bed and then climbed on himself, and Harry scooted backwards – awkwardly, with the rocking – before he leaned forward to pull Louis down on top of him. Louis landed with an _oof_ and Harry immediately wound his arms around Louis so he couldn’t pull away. 

Louis made a happily surprised sound when Harry leaned up and kissed him, making Harry smile. He loved being able to surprise Louis, often felt like he was too boring and predictable. Between school, football, being home at least three nights a week to make dinner for his designated dinner nights, and work at the bakery, it was kind of like his only not-boring thing in his life was Louis – and though he wasn’t boring in the slightest, Harry sometimes worried his own life would become too routine for Louis, who used to go out and party and dance and stuff. Even if it was a bit ridiculous, Harry took immense pleasure in surprising Louis in any way possible.

Repeating that to himself, Harry wrapped his legs up around Louis’ waist, where Louis was on his hands and knees hovering over him. Nerves of what he planned to do made him hesitate, though, and he contented himself with lazy snogging, feeling one of Louis’ hands cupping his face and sliding into his curls. “Mmm, hot,” Harry said when Louis clenched his fingers in his hair, relieved when Louis took it as a good enough excuse to lean back to take their shirts off. 

Harry pushed up the hem of Louis’ shirt as high as he could before moving to his own, pulling his shirt over his head after some awkward back-arching, since Louis was on top of him, and Harry pulled Louis down desperately, needing his close proximity. The cool shock Harry felt on his chest from the metal of Louis’ necklace made Harry’s breath kick up a notch, reminding him he could slow things down in an instant if he needed to, and Harry moaned before he gripped Louis tightly and rolled them over. It wasn’t nearly as fluid as Louis always did, but Harry ended up on top of Louis, smiling in triumph when he noticed that Louis’ eyes were wide with surprise.

Harry kissed Louis quickly before slowly making his way down Louis’ neck, sucking on a bruise he already had on his collar bone. His movements were awkward, with the swaying of the Jungle’s bed, but Harry did his best sucking a trail down his chest, grazing his top teeth against each muscle on Louis’ torso until Louis was groaning lowly, hips jumping ever so slightly when Harry hesitantly moved down Louis’ legs and his hand landed over his hard penis, hidden beneath Louis’ jeans. 

“Ha-Harry, babe,” Louis moaned when Harry pressed down on it slightly, and Harry held his gaze and leaned down to kiss the bulge over the jeans. Louis bit his lip and breathed hard through his nose, chest heaving just a tiny bit as he worked for control. 

“Can I – take them off?” Harry asked, hesitating only a little when Louis nodded. As Harry fumbled over Louis’ zipper and button, he noticed muscles in Louis’ frame trembling with the effort to stay still, and he kissed right under Louis’ belly button in thanks. 

He pulled Louis’ jeans down off his feet, glancing up to make eye contact with Louis before he slowly pulled down his boxers, too, and snorted, a little embarrassed, when Louis’ penis came up and bumped him under his chin once it was free of confinement. Louis laughed with him, and a thumb stroked over Harry’s pinked cheeks. Harry pressed a kiss to the underside of Louis’ penis, blushing with all the lights on and Louis focusing on him completely. 

Harry crawled back up, losing his balance twice with the rocking, and leaned down to kiss Louis sweetly, his fingers gliding across Louis’ cheeks and temples, curling little bits of hair around his fingertips, and generally just loving on him a bit.

“Harry,” Louis asked between kisses, “what’s – what’s happening?” 

Harry pulled back, staring down at Louis, and he started to feel a little ashamed for his sudden sexual…hunger, or whatever, but Louis was clearly just confused, rather than shocked, or, like, appalled, so Harry smiled and kissed him again. “Nothing’s wrong,” Harry told him sincerely, nudging Louis’ nose with his own before catching Louis’ lips softly. “I just – love you,” he sighed, loving little random things, like how he could feel the puff of breath from Louis’ nose on his cheek as he exhaled a relieved sigh, probably glad Harry wasn’t having some weird _thing_. “Wanna – just – wait, yeah? Please, Lou?”

Louis nodded easily to Harry’s plea, cupping his face and smiling softly up at him. “Of course, sweetheart,” he answered. “I love you, too. I’m here.”

Harry blushed and tucked his face into Louis’ neck, resolve getting firmer and firmer as he once again kissed his way down Louis’ torso, guiding one of Louis’ hands into his hair. Harry pushed Louis’ legs up and out so his legs were spread, knees bent and feet flat on the swaying bed. Harry let his fingers trail feather-light touches along Louis’ thighs and groin, knowing the touches were too light to satisfy Louis but solid enough that they were present and part of Louis’ conscious threshold. 

Harry pressed and sucked kisses in the creases between Louis’ thighs, humming with skin against his tongue. Louis arched into the feeling, his fingers clenching around Harry’s curls, and Harry blushed but derived great joy from holding Louis’ hips down onto the bed while Louis grunted in the back of his throat. Harry pulled his mouth from Louis’ skin. “Can you – don’t make yourself be quiet, Lou, okay? Can – I want…I want to hear the sounds you make. Please?”

Louis nodded, sighing a little bit and let the smallest groan escape when Harry licked up the underside of his penis. Harry smiled, willing himself to memorize every sound Louis made as he lowered his mouth to suck on one of Louis’ testicles, and then the other before he glanced nervously up at Louis. Shaking his doubt – Louis would tell Harry if he didn’t want something, Harry was sure of it – Harry slid his hands from the backs of Louis’ thighs downward to pull his bum cheeks out a little, looking up once Louis gasped a little bit. 

“Ca-can I?” Harry asked, licking his lips, and Louis nodded dumbly, looking like he’d been hit in the head. 

Harry gave open-mouthed kisses at Louis’ perineum, taking note of the way Louis’ legs were already trembling. Harry pulled a little bit more with the pads of his thumb, getting momentarily side-tracked by how plush Louis’ bum was before remembering he was on a mission. He took a deep breath and leaned in, hesitantly sliding his tongue across the crease between and gliding over Louis’ hole. Louis took a ragged breath while Harry was surprised – not that he’d thought Louis had _lied_ , or anything…but…well. It _was_ Louis’ _bum hole_ , after all. It could _hardly_ be tasty. 

And it wasn’t tasty, not at all, but it wasn’t _bad_ , either. Louis had been right – kind of like the way it tasted when Louis came in his mouth, only a bit less salty and a bit more bitter somehow. 

Louis sounded like his breathing was uneven, and Harry reasoned he’d taken long enough trying to decide if he liked doing this or not, and got back to it. He licked over it again, and Louis swallowed and his breath caught in his throat afterwards. Harry blushed and started licking faster, like he remembered (with a twitch of his penis) Louis doing the weekend before. 

“Harry,” Louis moaned quietly, toes curling in the bedding before his back arched up, giving Harry an awkward angle he didn’t really know how to work with.

“Lou, can you –” Blushing, because Harry had wanted to do this on his own without help, Harry paused and looked up at his boyfriend, whose eyes looked a little glazed over. “Is there, like – erm. Is there a better, like, way to – to get to it?” He asked awkwardly, grazing a finger over Louis’ bum that made Louis bite his lip.

“It’s – yeah, sure,” Louis said, sitting up slowly. “If I get on my knees, you can get behind me and do it, if that’s easier. Was that hurting your neck?” 

Harry almost snorted when Louis reached to start kneading at Harry’s neck, because he was trying to _lick his boyfriend’s bum hole_ , and there Louis was, worrying about his neck, but he didn’t want to ruin the mood. “No, I’m fine,” Harry insisted with a tiny bit of warmth to his cheeks, “it was just – kind of, like, weird angle, or something. …Was it – like –”

“It was _great_ Hazza, you’re so good at it, _shit_ ,” Louis breathed, leaning up to kiss Harry’s lips.

Harry blushed, and then Louis turned over, making the bed sway loads again. Harry held on, his hands on Louis’ bum and curled up and around his hips, and leaned in to press a kiss in the dip of the small of Louis’ back. “I love you,” Harry whispered into it, so quiet that Louis didn’t hear. “Are you – can I go?” Harry asked louder.

“Go ahead whenever you’re ready, babe,” Louis said. “And stop whenever you want to, alright?”

Harry kissed his back again, “Promise,” and slid back, situating himself on his bum, legs crossed and wedged between Louis’ knees, leaning down and close. He separated Louis’ cheeks again and licked across, watching as the curving plane of Louis’ back shifted, muscles tensing, and Louis’ head dropped down, and he swore quietly, when Harry started licking in circles, rather than just up and down. “What now?” Harry asked, pulling away briefly. “How do I make it better?”

Louis’ biceps flexed and he panted, straining out, “Anything you want, baby, you can - _oh_ \- keep doing that, you can – fuck, Harry, ‘s good – you can press it _in_ , if you want. Anything you want, sweetheart.”

Harry slowly pressed his tongue in, but the taste got stronger, a little bit, and though Louis was swearing a blue streak on the bed, his thighs trembling and his penis rock-hard, Harry was too conscious of exactly _where_ his tongue was. Maybe it was okay to lick _around_ it, but Harry thought maybe he didn’t like so much licking _in_ it (even though he knew Louis was _clean_ , having woken up when Louis got out of bed to shower before work that morning).

“I’m sorry, I don’t – I don’t like it,” Harry said, pulling out and licking Louis’ skin around his hole, feeling wretched for not liking it even after Louis had done it for him and it had felt incredible. He knew what he was making Louis miss out on, and began to slow down where he was licking, just as Louis shifted, moving forward, away from his mouth, and then turning around to sit and look at him. “Sorry,” Harry repeated, looking down at his hands in his lap. “I’ll still – I can – I’ll, like…blowjobs, I’m – I like giving _them_ , I just –”

“Harry, babe, that’s _okay_ , I _swear_. You’re not gonna like everything we do, and neither will I. There’s nothing wrong with having an opinion, sweet baby.”

Harry looked up at Louis, a little surprised and yet not at all surprised that Louis was being so perfect about getting worked up only to stop. Harry saw him squeezing a hand around the base of his penis, and immediately snapped out of his sad thoughts. “Oh, god, here, let me –” He said, pushing Louis’ chest to lay on his back, and scooted back on his knees to lean down, grabbing Louis’ penis.

“Harry, you don’t have to – _oh, shit_ , that’s good. Fuck,” Louis groaned as Harry used his mouth.

Harry went down as far as he could comfortably, sucking a little harder than he usually did, and wrapped his hand around what he couldn’t reach and moving it up and down quickly, taking notice of the way Louis’ hips were jerking slightly. 

Harry leaned forward and braced his forearm across Louis’ hips above his penis, making it just a little more difficult for Louis to jerk his hips up and gag Harry. He bobbed his head up and down in time with his hand, and Louis’ thighs started tensing up, knees moving as he locked and unlocked them while he flexed involuntarily. Harry moaned just a little, because Louis did it to him sometimes and it always felt really good, and Louis moaned quietly. Harry pulled off of Louis’ penis and let Louis clearly see him lick up the underside with the very tip of his tongue, and Louis’ jaw clenched twice before Harry sucked it back into his mouth again. This time, though, he went down a little farther, and Louis tugged just a little at his hair, letting him know it was almost time. 

Harry pulled off, then, sliding his hand quickly up and down Louis’ penis, the way he did to himself when he had a wank (which, come to think about it, it’d been a while since he’d needed one), and fit his lips around the head of Louis’ penis, sucking and swiping his tongue over where precome was already coming out. Louis gasped, and then Harry’s tongue was catching come shooting out and landing directly on the center of his tongue. Harry moaned at the taste, feeling like he was glowing for making Louis feel so good. 

While Louis gasped and trembled a little through his orgasm and aftershocks, Harry climbed up Louis’ body, straddling his stomach so he didn’t brush against Louis’ penis while it was still sensitive. He leaned down to kiss all over Louis’ face, smoothing his hair from his face and complimenting him on how incredible he looked just then, his cheeks flushed and his eyes bright and dazed, and as Louis’ eyes went closed and he tried to breathe slowly, Harry found himself pushing a hand down his shorts, grinding the heel of his hand into his erection.

“Want me to take care of that?” 

Harry looked down at Louis and smiled when he saw his boyfriend’s eyes flickering between Harry’s face and the movement beneath his shorts, and Louis grinned when Harry nodded quietly. 

Louis flipped them over suddenly, and Harry let out an embarrassing squeak of surprise and then laughed loudly, the noise echoing a little in the Jungle. Louis laughed, too, but then he was kissing and scraping teeth down Harry’s abs, and it wasn’t funny anymore, really. 

Harry’s breath was already coming a little quickly by the time Louis’ mouth reached his waistband, and he lifted his hips eagerly when Louis looked up at him, his fingers lightly folding over the hems on his thighs. Louis pulled his shorts down and kissed up an inner thigh, looking up to watch Harry.

Harry’s breath shuddered when Louis pressed his face into the material of his briefs, licking the cotton and inhaling deeply before he started mouthing over Harry’s erection. Louis moaned something, but Harry wasn’t really focused, his hips grinding into minute tiny circles, trying to gain friction from Louis’ mouth. 

Finally, Louis kissed underneath Harry’s bellybutton and slowly peeled down Harry’s underwear, letting his erection spring free, upwards and hitting his stomach. Harry barely had time to think before he was groaning, feeling Louis’ mouth close around it and going slowly almost all the way down before bobbing his head vigorously, his fingers kneading at Harry’s inner thighs. 

Harry whined in the back of his throat, his feet pushing his hips up, pushing himself further into Louis’ mouth. Louis sucked and swirled his tongue, and Harry finished almost embarrassingly early, his breath hitching as he whispered Louis’ name in warning. Louis sucked him through his orgasm, leaving Harry’s toes curling and his back arching, Louis’ mouth hot around him.

Harry collapsed back onto the bed, panting, eyes closed and feeling overheated. He heard Louis chuckle and felt him crawling up his body, but Harry’s lips stayed lifeless when Louis bent down to kiss him. 

“Alright?” Louis asked, sounding amused.

Harry cracked open one eye and nodded a tiny bit. “Fine,” he said faintly, and Louis just shook his head before he flopped over next to Harry, the bed swaying vigorously in a way that had Harry’s stomach swooping a little bit.

After a while, Harry cooled down enough to scoot close to Louis, curving his body so just half his back was resting on Louis’ torso. Louis hummed in approval and pulled the thick blanket over them. He trailed his fingertips up and down Harry’s torso, where his arm was curled around him, and Harry soon drifted off quietly.


	41. Part 40.

“So,” Harry began, blushing as he tucked two fingers over the waistband of Louis’ shorts and tugged him close. His voice was loud in the locker room, otherwise empty because it was Sunday and Louis had the only key.

Louis grinned, stepping closer willingly and crowding Harry close to a wall. “So?” He prompted smugly when Harry’s breath hitched and he went silent.

“So,” he continued, “I was thinking…we should – we should go out tonight, or something. To dinner.”

Louis groaned. “Awe, I wish I could, sweetheart,” he said emphatically, “but Mum works tonight; I have to watch the girls. No romantic- _or_ sexy-times allowed, I’m afraid.” He genuinely was bummed, but it was the look of disappointment on Harry’s face that made him reconsider. “…You could always come over? I mean, it’d be more work than fun, but…you’re welcome to, if you want.”

Harry’s face lit up, telling Louis he’d made the right decision. “Yeah?” He asked. “I could make dinner, if you want.”

Louis snorted as he pictured Harry in an apron, brows furrowed as he tried to think of something he could cook with the, like, three whole ingredients in their kitchen. “No food in the house, sweetie,” he said. “I was just gonna order something. Pizza night, or. Whatever.”

Harry made an affronted sound. “You’re not sending your sisters to school after a weekend ended with bad food,” he said incredulously. “Can we stop at the grocery store and get something?”

Louis nodded, amused, and asked, “Do you seriously want to spend your Sunday night cooking for six and picking out clothes, making sure the twins got all the conditioner out of their hair, and helping with homework grades two through eight?”

Harry scoffed. “It’s hardly a _chore_ , Lou,” he said with a smile. “Plus, it’ll get me away from my mum for a night,” he added, smile dropping off. 

Louis leaned forward and kissed Harry’s cheek. Since Harry’d told his mum about Des' letter, she’d upped his restrictions a bit. If Harry wasn’t with Liam and Niall or Louis, he was to be at home. The doors had to be locked at all times, he was to call Anne any time he went anywhere, tell her where he was going, and call again when he got there and tell her who all was there with him. If he was staying the night at Louis’ house, Harry had to call her when he woke up and got ready for school, and send her a text when he got there; he was also to text her when practice was over, and when he was leaving work or Karen’s. On top of the new strange rules, Anne had picked up a habit of coddling Harry to the point where it was stifling to him, and though he understood her nerves to a point, Harry lovingly tried to stay away from home as much as possible without making his mother feel bad or neglected.

Trying to lighten the mood, Louis smiled a bit. “You’re incredible,” he said fondly. “How’d I land a fit football player who cooks for me, cleans for me, and is willing to forego his weekend free time to play Mummy to four young girls?”

Harry’s gaze flickered to Louis’ lips and back up, and he swallowed before he murmured, “And manly, too. Don’t forget manly.”

“Very manly,” Louis agreed softly, and leaned in to kiss his silly boyfriend.

“Tomlinson! Just the man I needed to see!”

Louis and Harry sprang apart, Harry smacking his head on the wall, as their coach’s voice echoed through the room. Heart racing, as he hadn’t realized his coach frequented his office on the weekend, Louis looked at the man with stricken eyes. 

“In my office. We’ll only be a minute,” Coach added to Harry, who nodded quickly, hand on the back of his head.

Louis followed his coach with a last helpless glance to Harry, who looked just as confused. 

“Take a seat,” Coach said, and pushed the door to, taking a seat himself. “First off, I’d like to say congratulations on the wedding.”

“Wedding?” Louis echoed, eyes wide.

“Oh, you’re not married? My apologies; you and Styles in there were looking more domestic than me and my wife of forty-six years," he said, lips pursed to keep from smiling.

Louis had the grace to blush lightly. “Sorry, sir,” he said, abashed.

“It’s fine,” Coach said, looking amused. “You think I didn’t notice how smitten you were when you suggested I move him up? I nearly didn’t, _because_ of that. It wasn’t until I saw him working with you that had me keep him. As it is, you’re lucky he turned out to be a great player with a great attitude. Matter of fact, start subtly teaching him how to captain, will you? He’ll make a good one next year, with your coaching. Subtly, though; I don’t want him knowing yet in case I change my mind.”

Thrilled for Harry, Louis eagerly nodded. “Yes , sir,” he said, standing up. “I will _absolu_ -”

“Sit down; that’s not what I wanted. I got distracted,” Coach interrupted with a laugh. Louis promptly shut up and sat back down, impatiently waiting for him to continue. 

Coach rifled through papers on his desk. Finally, he lifted up a manila folder and opened it, laying out stapled packs of papers in front of Louis. “These are records of contact I’ve had recently with some talent scouts,” he said, and Louis’ breath caught as he saw the number of times ‘Dominique Riverez’ and ‘Adam Leslie’ were listed, showing they’d called often. Suddenly, Louis felt exhausted with relief, a huge weight lifting off his shoulders.

“I’d thought nobody was interested,” Louis admitted breathily, looking up at his coach. “I wasn’t getting any e-mails or calls; I was just sitting there on all the profiles online and –”

“I, erm, have a bit of a reputation,” Coach said. “My players don’t get contacted often; _I_ do. The scouts come to me because I’m honest and fair; I make sure my players go to good schools to be appreciated.” Louis nodded, still breathing slowly, head spinning a tiny bit, and Coach leaned forward and gestured to the papers again. 

“Two different scouts, two different schools. Both have plenty of merit for a solid choice of school. Your profile says you want physical therapy or sports medicine?” Coach checked, and Louis nodded dumbly. Coach tapped Dominique Riverez’s name. “He’s from University of North Florida. They’re an accredited sports med school.” He tapped Adam Leslie. “He’s from Middle Tennessee State College – also an accredited sports med school. Florida's also got a decent physical therapy program, whereas Tennessee’s is just starting out, so it doesn’t really have any reputation either way.” Louis swallowed as he looked at the stapled packets, and Coach paused long enough to make Louis look up at him again. 

“Riverez and Leslie aren’t the only scouts who’ve called, Tomlinson. Listen. You’re the best captain this team’s seen in years. You’re an incredible forward, you’ve got a great attitude and you’re dedicated. You also get decent grades and while your SAT scores weren’t the best, you performed well on your ACT’s, first take. That’s pretty impressive. All of that, I knew you wouldn’t have a hard time finding a school to take you. Honestly, I thought you’d have more trouble trying to _decide_ on an offer. …So, I’ve been fielding your offers. Not a whole lot, and I kept a record of all of them in case you wanted to look through them yourself. I do it for the players who deserve it the most, and you do. I want to see you go and play college ball competitively, do you understand?”

Louis nodded, coughing. “Yes – ah, yes , sir,” he said gruffly. “You – how exactly did you single it down to these two?”

Coach waved a dismissive hand. “Narrowed it to D1, reputation and record, programs, frequency of calls – for their interest, obviously; the more they want you, the more they’ll pay you – and then cost. I, erm, know cost isn’t an issue for you, but –”

“No,” Louis interrupted, swallowing tightly. “I – my parents are divorcing, actually, so. Money’s… Money’s a factor, kind of, now. _Thank_ you, Coach,” Louis said emphatically. “Seriously, I’ve been so worried, but I…” _I couldn’t talk about it because my mum’s worried about a divorce, I haven’t been on speaking terms with my best mate, my other best mate possibly isn’t good enough to get an offer – or at least an offer like I could – and complaining would be rude, and my boyfriend’s got a psychopathic rapist and violent father soon to be on the loose after him._ Louis licked his lips. “Well. You know me,” he said with a grin.

Coach folded up the manila file and handed it to Louis. “Go on,” he said, looking him dead in the eyes with a smile on his face. “Go spread the news.”

\---

So, it was definitely a possibly probability somewhere along the spectrum of possible current occasions in the world that Louis was absolutely shitting himself.

A Wednesday night, a stupid high school football game against a team they’d lost to initially – their only loss of the season – and it could make or break Louis’ future.

Really. The entire _state_ had dubbed this game the biggest of the season. Central versus Laurel. Everyone who was interested at all in high school football was coming to this game. People were leaving school early, taking off work, closing down shops. Anne and Robin had both taken off work, as well as some of Louis’ teachers (who’d called in “sick-insert-fake-cough-here”) and even his mum, who’d given in and pulled his sisters out of school to drive them out and let them watch.

“You ready?”

Louis looked over at his best mate and co-captain. “Born ready,” he lied with a smile. Stan just laughed. “What,” Louis said, eyebrow raised, “it’s not like there’re two scouts out there watching my every move and deciding what I’m worth, or anything.”

Stan sighed. “Louis, mate, those blokes would’ve been to most of the games this season, if they’re as interested as Harry said.”

Louis sighed, though a tiny part of his brain glowed with the comfort of Harry’s pride in him – since Louis’d told him about his conversation with Coach, Harry hadn’t been able to stop bragging to anyone who stood still long enough (hadn’t been able to stop blowing him, either, and Louis wasn’t about to start complaining about either). “I know,” he nodded, “but now, I _know_ they’re here for me, and this is the season’s biggest game. ‘S a little bit of pressure.”

Stan nodded, and looked over Louis’ shoulder and smiled. “Looks like the pressure’s getting to lover-boy, too,” he said with a laugh, jerking his chin. 

Eyebrows raised, Louis looked and had to laugh. Sitting on the bench next to his locker, Harry had Louis’ captain’s armband and was copying the plays in pen down on his arm, writing the play’s name and then drawing little arrows depicting where he was meant to go. 

Louis turned to dismiss himself to Stan, but he was already gone. A bit miffed, Louis turned and walked over behind his boyfriend. 

“You’ve known those plays all year, Harry,” he said softly.

Harry jumped about a mile in the air and his head snapped around to regard Louis guiltily. “I know,” he admitted sheepishly. “Just – it’s an important game, yeah? Can’t be forgetting plays and making people think poorly of my captain, or anything.”

Louis chuckled, sitting down and slowly sliding the band from Harry’s hand. “If there’s anyone I think could make me look stupid, it’d _definitely_ be you,” he said with a nod. Harry looked shocked, like he couldn’t believe Louis would even gently agree with his self-deprecating comment. Louis smiled and took Harry’s hand. “But never on the field,” he added softly.

Harry blushed and squeezed Louis’ hand. “I think I’ll keep you around a bit,” he said, grinning an evil grin Louis could only blame himself for. “You’re good for my ego.”

Louis laughed and clapped Harry’s bare thigh. “Get dressed, goofball,” he said, and then stood and raised his voice to echo through the locker room. “Ten minutes ‘til we need to be out there on the field, stretching.”

\---

Louis braced himself on his knees, grunting his thanks as he took a bottle from the water girl. Two and a half minutes until end game and they were down 3-2. 

One of the Central boys kicked in on a corner foul and they were off, Laurel pushing Central’s defense while Harry, Stan, and Louis doubled back, watching their lines carefully. As Louis watched, Harry slide-tackled Laure’s right forward, moving the ball, and Louis moved in to get it, passing to Stan almost immediately to jump out of the way of Laurel’s center forward.

Stan took the ball upfield, Harry and Louis following.

“Nike, Nike!” Louis shouted. “Nike!”

Immediately, the field shifted as the word spread, defenders and mids and the goalie calling out the trick play as well. Their defense dropped back, only moving side to side with the ball, and the midfielders stepped up, pushing forward as Louis and his wings shifted to the right.

Louis was proud of this play. He’d come up with it himself, knowing it’d make the opposing team prepare themselves for off-side offense, and their resulting defense would leave a hole for Stan to punch through. 

Laurel fell for it as expected, and Louis curved his run to keep up the fake, Harry doing the same as Stan moved to swiftly cut left through the hole. Instead of running, though, Stan got tripped up by a rogue Laurel midfielder and lost possession, leaving the ball rolling with no one controlling it. 

Louis swore and sprinted all out, refusing to lose this game. He picked up the slack left by Stan on the ground and heard Harry call out to him. Knowing Harry’d taken Louis’ spot in the play, Louis swerved around a defender who’d figured the trick out and swept the ball onward, pushing through the gap. Louis took a deep breath and landed a kick, watching as the ball flew through the air, and suddenly he felt his jersey being pulled, choking him and yanking him down sideways.

Louis hit the ground hard and his head thudded a few times, and as his head started throbbing wildly he heard whistles from the refs and noise from the stadium. He opened his eyes and squinted as he looked at the crowd, trying to discern which side was cheering loudest, but both sides had their mouths open, all waving and jumping. 

“Louis! Louis, you good?”

“Lou! Are you okay?”

Louis looked toward the voices and recognized Harry and Stan through a haze. His head gave a particularly nasty thud, and he groaned. Their looks grew in concern, and Harry reached to help Louis up, Stand following suit quickly.

“You fell pretty hard,” Harry said nervously. “How do you feel?”

“I want water,” Louis rasped out, and Stan sprinted to bring it. Louis watched and then noticed his coach coming with their trainer, Paige, both walking quickly and looking concerned.

Not wanting to be told not to play, Louis clenched his jaw and made his feet hold steady as he jogged to meet them, schooling the pain from his expression as his head jarred each time his feet hit the ground. He heard Harry breathing behind him, following at the light jog while the crowd made noise that set Louis nauseous, refs conferring.

“Tomlinson!” Coach began, but Louis interrupted him.

“I’m fine, Coach,” he lied, shaking his head and hoping his pupils weren’t small. “Just got the wind knocked out of me, that’s all.”

Coach looked hard at him, and Louis looked around the stadium to avoid his gaze, just in case. “I didn’t see who pulled me, though,” he said, and Coach sighed, falling for the diversion.

“It was that brute, Three,” their trainer said, and Louis nodded. “Nice goal, by the way,” she added, smiling.

So, it had gone in. “Are they counting it?” He asked.

“Well, the ball was in before you got pulled, so they should,” Coach answered, and smiled. “You get one foul kick, Tomlinson. Make it good.”

Louis nodded, and grabbed the water bottle from Stan. He took a long pull off it, and his free hand found Harry’s as his coach and trainer walked away. The ref blew his whistle, and it was time to get ready to kick. Louis threw the bottle to the sideline and squeezed Harry’s hand as he turned around, groaning in pain.

“Did you lie to Coach?” Harry hissed at him, looking worried. “Louis, you could have a concussion!”

Louis groaned. “I don’t want anyone else taking this kick,” he admitted, and braced himself to jog the rest of the way with another squeeze to Harry’s hand.

Louis fought a wave of dizziness as he stood at the foul line, the Laurel players making walls along the sides of the goal and his Central boys behind him. Gritting his teeth, Louis staggered a step forward, and then another, and faster until he reared back and kicked the ball with his might, curving it up and in at the last second to the goal’s right top corner. The goalie’s gloves touched the ball, but got no purchase, and it was in, clear. Leaving Central to victory, 4-2.

The crowd went crazy, and Louis fell to his knees when his teammates all ran and clapped his back. 

Central had won. They’d beaten Laurel. Laurel now had two losses; Central had one. Central High School were district champions. Louis’d won the biggest game of the season – the biggest game of his high school football career. His head kicked off another wave of nausea. 

Harry was there, though. He ran around and dropped to his knees, level with Louis, and Louis ignored his pain and grabbed his boyfriend’s face and snogged the life out of him. Harry kissed him back and then pulled back, laughing giddily. “We won!” He shouted, and Louis barely even heard him. “We _won_ , Louis!” 

Louis laughed and cut himself off when nausea made his stomach churn. He squeezed Louis hand. “Bathroom,” he gasped out suddenly, and Harry’s eyes widened, like he’d just remembered Louis’d fallen. He nodded and pulled Louis up, pushing to make their way off the field and into the locker room quickly, ignoring the confused calls.

Louis barely made it in time to be sick into a sink, groaning as he coughed and gagged. Harry turned the faucet on to wash it down the drain, and Louis felt a cold, wet paper towel slap down onto the back of his neck, and Harry had another one, dabbing at his face and hairline. Harry murmured to him quietly, but then the locker room started to fill up with loud players. Louis groaned as his head felt fit to explode, and Harry quickly shushed them and sent Stan to get the trainer again.

The team changed quietly, concerned for Louis, who felt his cheeks burning, knowing they were watching him being sick. “Toilet,” he begged in his rasp, and Harry turned off the faucet and helped him into a stall. Louis threw up again, and then Harry was being pulled away by the trainer, who took one look at his eyes and swore.

“Did you know you’re concussed?” She asked mildly as she felt around Louis’ head.

Louis winced as she prodded the back of his head, where he’d hit the ground repeatedly. “Had a thought I might be, yeah,” he admitted, and she glowered at him. 

“No football until I see you next,” she commanded. She pulled out a blue block and broke it, releasing a cracking noise and put it to his skin on his forehead. “Ice pack,” she explained. “I want it there the rest of the night. No sleeping tonight. You can sleep tomorrow night, alright? And stay home from school _and practice_ if you feel dizzy or throw up even a little bit. Got it?” She sighed, and handed Louis toilet paper. “Wipe your face off,” she said. Louis took the paper and wiped his mouth, grimacing as he saw he paper didn’t come back clean. “I mean it, Louis. Okay? Take it easy.” 

Louis nodded, and she packed her bag and stood. “Go on home,” she said with a reluctant smile. “Take care of him,” she added to Harry, who nodded.

Louis leaned against the stall wall and looked up at Harry, who was leaning against the doorway to the stall. Harry was gazing down at him, a mix of exasperated and concerned, and when Louis couldn’t take the amount of love in his eyes without his head throbbing, he held his hands up for Harry to take. Harry rolled his eyes, but of course, he took them and pulled Louis up slowly, leading him towards their lockers to change.

Harry pulled Louis’ shirt off gently, and looking at him peacefully, pushed Louis down to sit on the bench. Harry slid down to his knees and picked up Louis’ foot to unlace his cleats. He blushed when a few of the guys cat called at him for being on his knees for Louis, but Louis growled at them and they shut up easily enough, getting back to their own conversations as Louis rested his head against the locker and closed his eyes. He was so tired.

Harry was pulling off Louis’ shin guards when the locker room went silent.

“Harry Styles.”

Louis’ eyes snapped open when he recognized the voice, but Harry had already turned around at his name being called.

In their locker room stood Mark, holding a program and showing them Harry’s picture, along with his name, year in high school, jersey number, and position on the team. Harry and Louis stared at Mark until Mark folded the program up and put it into his jacket pocket. “Imagine my surprise when I see no Liam Payne in the program, although I met Liam Payne a while back and it surely was the same boy on the field,” he said mildly. “Playing right there, right next to my boy. You two are clearly _very_ close,” he added. “Louis, you’re so close with this boy; didn’t you know his name?”

Mark’s eyes shifted from appraising Harry to appraising Louis, and Harry looked back at Louis before he took a step closer. “Leave him alone,” Harry said, his voice wobbling a bit. Louis pulled Harry back by the hand – not wanting Harry to get any more involved than he already clearly was – and Harry looked back at him, bewildered and upset. “Lou, he’s messed with you enough,” he said firmly, anger in his tone as he turned back to Mark. “You leave him alone,” he repeated.

“ _Harry_. Leave it,” Louis said as loud as he could without hurting his head. It didn’t turn out to be very loud at all, but it was enough to get his boyfriend’s attention, earning him an angry and incredulous look. Louis looked at Mark. “What do you need, Dad?” He asked quietly, looking down at the ground and ignoring Harry’s expression for the moment.

Mark grinned. “Just wanted to let you know I was here. I was…interested in what I saw. You’re a good footballer.”

Louis swallowed. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

“Mmm. Mhmm,” Mark mused, nodding. “Good game, Louis,” he said, and left without another word.

The locker room stayed silent after Mark was gone, and Louis kept his eyes down. Next to him, Harry growled and threw his fist into the metal locker door.


	42. Part 41.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is ridiculously dialogue-y, sorry! But it's important, so, like. Yeah. Hope you guys have a good weekend! xx

Harry glowered at Louis, who was sitting on his couch the day after getting his concussion. They’d both skipped the day of work and lazed about quietly, Harry setting alarms every ten minutes to ensure Louis wouldn’t fall asleep, but now, in the early afternoon, the exhaustion and worry meant Harry’s frustration was seeping out through cracks in his wall.

He just couldn’t understand why Louis hadn’t stood up to Mark, made a scene, and gotten the man to leave him alone, after all he’d done to Louis and his family.

“Look,” Louis finally sighed when Harry wouldn’t let it go, “it wasn’t worth it. Be upset all you want, but making a scene with Mark never works out well, okay? There’s always consequences with him.”

“I just don’t get it,” Harry argued, frustrated. “You’d slap a _child_ if you thought they might’ve looked at me the wrong way, but you won’t tell Mark to leave you alone? Not even when you’re _concussed_ and you could’ve just said it was the _pain_ talking if it blew up in your face? You realize it’s not just _you_ he hurts when he messes with you, right?”

Louis sighed again, and Harry grew irate. “I know it bothers you, too –” Louis began, placating.

“ _I was talking about your sisters_ ,” Harry interrupted, acid in his tone.

Louis quieted, sensing the venom. “Are we having a fight?” He asked, incredulous. “Over _Mark_?!”

Harry glared. “ _Yes_ ,” he snapped.

Louis sighed again, and Harry’s glare darkened.

Finally, Louis looked away. “Listen, Hazza…I think Mark’s up to something, okay? I dunno, like, maybe something with football, possibly? Since he came in about you being on the team…he tends to have a _theme_ when he messes with people. He’s a dick, like that.”

Harry bit his lip at Louis’ worried expression. “…What do you mean?” He asked, not wanting to let it go but growing uneasy at Louis’ unease.

Louis looked at Harry for a long time before he held out his arms. “Come ‘ere,” he mumbled. Harry swallowed his remaining irritation and crawled into Louis’ lap, leaning back against his chest and feeling warm. Louis’ arms surrounded Harry and his thumb rubbed Harry’s bicep, and Harry smiled when Louis kissed the back of his neck.

“I love you,” he mumbled into Harry’s shirt collar.

“I love you, too,” Harry answered quietly.

Louis pulled Harry even closer and hummed. “I’ll never let anyone hurt you, my sweet baby, okay?”

“Louis,” Harry said, stiffening at the ominous-sounding promise, “why do you think Marks’ up to something?”

Louis stayed quiet, making Harry nervous. Finally, though, Louis shifted and began, “Remember – when Zayn kept trying to talk to me?” Harry nodded, eyebrows furrowing. “Well, he – his dad and Mark work together. Zayn’s dad’s been Mark’s best mate since they were kids. ‘S how I met Zayn, actually, when me and Mum moved in with him, he had them over. I was totally prepared to hate Zayn because his dad was friends with Mark, and Mark had taken one of my racecars away, but Zayn whispered that he didn’t like Mark, either, and then took me upstairs to his room, and he shared his racecars.” Louis laughed quietly at the memory, and Harry smiled as he imagined little Zayn and Louis playing.

“Yasir – Zayn’s dad – has always known Mark’s been…sort of power-thirsty, or whatever. He always kind of covered Mark’s tracks, talking him out of his crazier ideas, cleaned up his mess.” Louis paused, and Harry sat up straighter, sure Louis was getting to the point. “…When me and Zayn talked, that first time that night, he told me Yasir’d been asking about you – ‘a kid named Harry Styles’. And Zayn overheard Mark talking about me being gay to Yasir. And the other day, Zayn texted me, saying Yasir told him he had a feeling Mark was keeping something from him. I dunno, babe, but those tow don’t have secrets. Not from each other; never have. They know _all_ each other’s dirty laundry. But if Yasir’s worried enough to go to Zayn about Mark…” Louis shook his head. “Something’s happening, baby.”

Harry sat quietly, thinking. “So you didn’t want to provoke him,” he said quietly, feeling stupid. His outburst had probably just made everything worse. 

“Exactly,” Louis confirmed wryly. “ _That’s_ why I told you to stop. I don’t want to press my luck. Not until I know what he’s up to…and probably not even after that, if I’m honest. I don’t know if my mum’s transferred her money or not; I don’t know how soon the divorce will happen and finalize, or how it’ll turn out. But regardless, going away to school won’t exactly make it _easier_ to protect them.” Louis shrugged. “I’m worried,” he admitted simply. 

Harry turned around in Louis’ lap, pausing to reach for his Red Bull – in order to keep Louis awake, Harry had to stay awake, too, after all. He took a long swig of it, grimacing at the carbonated Kool-Aid taste, and pressed a kiss to Louis’ chest. It was always the simple, quiet times that reminded Harry of what a wonderful man he’d fallen in love with. “You’re so strong,” he whispered lovingly, “and you’re an incredible son and brother.”

Louis smiled down at Harry, and brushed curls away from Harry’s temple. “You’re one to talk, he reminded Harry gently, making him blush. “Or, well. Maybe not the ‘brother’ part,” he allowed with a grin, “but you’re a damn good boyfriend to make up for it.”

Harry giggled and rolled his eyes. “Hush and come kiss me,” he demanded, wrapping his hand around Louis’ necklace. “We’ll all be okay,” he whispered when Louis’ lips were close enough to feel, and then Louis’ lips were on Harry’s. 

\---

Harry jumped as he heard a knock on the door, and laughed at himself for being so jumpy. Standing at the stove, cooking for himself and his mum – after Louis’ mum had come home from work earlier, she’d given Harry a lift home, since Harry had promised his own mum a dinner date – Harry stood, hesitating nervously for a moment before rolling his eyes at himself. He was being paranoid, it wasn’t as if he didn’t have _any_ friends who would come visit him.

“Come in!” He called, placing the meat on the skillet. Instead of hearing the door open, though, Harry heard another knock.

Eyebrows furrowed, Harry wiped his hands off on the dishrag hanging from the stove and turned the burner on low so he could leave it for a bit. He left the kitchen, chewing his lip, and as he walked down the hallway to the door, there was another tentative knock.

“Coming!” He hollered, and hurried to the door. “ _Oh_ ,” he said dumbly.

Robin stood in the doorway, hands in his pockets with a smile. “Hi, Harry,” he said. As Harry stared, not answering, the smile dimmed and eventually slid off Robin’s face completely. “…Did Anne not tell you I was coming?” He asked, already taking a step back to leave.

Harry swallowed the irrational panic rising in his throat. _She hadn’t_ , and she used to tell him not to believe plans or instructions any adult gave him unless his mum _specifically told_ Harry about them. And he’d never really been alone with Robin, and his mum was running late and Louis was at home concussed and being coddled by Jay. “Erm,” Harry said, swallowing again, “n-no, she – didn’t mention.” Did he sound breathless? He felt breathless.

Robin stood and stared at Harry for a moment, and Harry felt his palms sweat. What if Robin got mad?

“Oh,” Robin said, and then laughed. “Well, this is a bit awkward.”

Harry laughed self-consciously, relieved. At least Robin didn’t _seem_ upset. 

“Is she busy?” Robin asked. “Maybe we can figure out which one of us got the day wrong – probably me,” he added with a chuckle. 

Harry’s fingers clenched around the door. _His mum wasn’t home._ “She’s – erm. …She’s on her way home,” Harry said, though it wasn’t technically true – Anne wasn’t even _off_ yet. Harry licked his lips, fingers twitching nervously at his side, where Robin couldn’t see.

“Oh,” Robin said easily, and then his eyes went wide for a moment. “Oh, mate, I’m sorry,” he said casually, backing up and stumbling a tiny bit. “I’ll just – call her later. No worries. Have a good night, Harry.”

Harry watched, a little bewildered at first, as Robin retreated. It clicked, though, that Robin must’ve figured out Harry was home alone and didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. Harry chewed his lip, weighing his options. That was a really nice thing for Robin to have done – given Harry space like that.

“Hey, Robin,” he called. Robin paused and turned around, and, well, no going back now. “Did you – erm. You – you’re, like, a computer guy, right? You – I thought you said that before…?”

Harry scratched at his side behind the door as Robin took a step back towards Harry, and Harry said, “It’s – well, it’s just that I’ve – do you, like. Do you know how to do, erm, anti-virus stuff? Only – my computer was on, like, a trial thing of one, but it’s over now, and…I don’t – I mean, I don’t really know computer-y things…”

Robin visibly hesitated. “Do you want me to take a look at it?” He asked. “I could come back later this week, when your mum’s here, if you’d like.”

Harry swallowed. Time to take the plunge. “I just – I mean. You’re here now, right? You could – erm. Just. You could just have dinner with us. If you – I mean if you wanted, obviously. I mean you could – you don’t have to do my computer,” he added belatedly. “I just –”

Harry swallowed as Robin took a few steps toward the door, smiling his normal, peaceful smile. “Are you sure?” Robin asked, stopping and standing still.

Harry dropped the horrible casual attempt and managed a wobbly smile. “Don’t – don’t be offended if I yell, or, like. Vomit on you. Tends to happen. I don’t have a very good track record.”

Robin nodded with a small smile. “Well, yeah,” he said. “I’ll take a look at the computer.”

Harry licked his lips. “Are you sure you don’t mind?” He asked, and Robin nodded.

“It’s no problem,” he waved off. “I’ve had plenty of experience with computers like yours,” he added with a chuckle, and Harry laughed with him, though he didn’t really get why it was funny. 

“Right,” he said. “Well – here,” he opened the door wide, letting Robin in. He squeezed his eyes shut when robin slid past him, breathing slowly as he shut the door and followed the mountainous man into the living room.

“Erm, I’ll go…get my laptop,” Harry mumbled. “Just – erm. Stay, like. There,” he said, pointing to the couch farthest from the stairs. Robin nodded easily enough and sat down, and Harry hurried upstairs to grab his computer. While he was in his room, he blushed as he deleted any websites that might be…considered inappropriate. He also sent Louis a quick text before heading back. 

_R is here. I’m fine, just thought you should know in case. Sleep tight, love you .xx_

Robin was still sitting on the couch when Harry came back downstairs, and he stood up slowly to take the computer from Harry. “Is it okay if I work on it in the dining room?” He asked. Better for my back,” he explained ruefully.

Harry swallowed. “Erm. Yeah, that’s…that’s fine,” he said, nodding, and darted into the kitchen. From the stove, Harry had a view of Robin and could see if he so much as tapped his foot. Harry blushed as he re-tied his goofy apron back on to save his jeans in case of a splatter, washed his hands, and checked the meat as he turned the burner back on. “Is – are pork chops okay with you?” He asked. “Erm, done in mustard?”

“Sure, thanks, Harry,” Robin answered without turning around, and Harry nodded to himself as he dropped two more pork chops into his bowl of mustard and placed them, fully coated, onto the long skillet. After a few minutes of working in silence, he looked up and saw Robin was already digging around in Harry’s computer, and it wasn’t until then that he realized he’d closed it, so the password should’ve been required. “How’d you – how’d you know my password?” He asked.

Robin looked up and turned a bit to face Harry, blinking slowly. “I didn’t,” he answered. “I overrode it. Figured you’d want to stay in your space and I’d stay in mine.” He shrugged. 

Harry blinked. “Oh,” he answered dumbly, a little impressed. “So you’re, like. _Really_ smart, if you can do all that.”

Robin chuckled modestly, waving Harry off. “I’m just good with computers,” he answered. “And it _does_ help that I _created_ this computer,” he added. 

Harry’s fingers slipped on the pork chop as he was flipping it over. “You - _what_?” He asked.

Robin’s eyebrows furrowed. “Did you not know that?” He asked. Harry shook his head, and Robin turned more fully to face him. As Harry grabbed a can of beans from the pantry, Robin explained. “Before I got hired on by this company I’m at – the computer graphics design company – I created my own line of computer. It’s a little thing; nothing to compete with Dell or Sony, or anything. My own little franchise. Your computer was my first type in the line, which has six models of content, so far, and my very favorite. That’s how I met your mum, actually – sold her your computer, right there in the store while I was working with selling my franchise.” Robin chuckled. “Had me charmed from the moment she talked to me, if I’m honest.”

Harry smiled a bit, now thoroughly impressed and happy to hear someone happy to have met his mum. “She’s such a nice person, isn’t she,” he mused.

Robin laughed outright. “She wasn’t when I met her!” He said, shocking Harry a bit. “Gave me the biggest glare I’d ever seen off a woman – though, to be fair, I’d accidentally bumped into her and knocked her right into a display of electronics.”

Harry covered his mouth with his hand to stop the laughter, but it didn’t work as he imagined his mum on top of a pile of boxes, glaring up the huge man who’d bumped her there. “I can imagine,” he laughed.

Robin’s laughter trailed off naturally as he nodded. “I was so flustered, I didn’t know what to do! Felt so bad for the poor woman. Tried to pull her up and she looked as if she’d sooner bite it off than let me help. Dumb as it sounds, that was it for me. I tried to play it cool – think I did alright, too – and rambled off something about fate. And I guess it was,” he added with a little smile, tapping Harry’s computer, “because she bought this one from me, and this is really what brought us all together.”

Harry smiled. He liked the thought of that – something as random as a computer tying everyone together. He didn’t say anything, though, and Robin didn’t seem to need him to, because they both got back to their prospective tasks. 

Harry was just making plates for Robin, his mum, and himself when the door opened and he heard the familiar sounds of his mum carrying her things through the door. Robin smiled like he’d won the lottery and stood quickly, hurrying down the hall to greet her, and though Harry usually would at least poke his head around to say hi, he smiled to himself and poured his mum a glass of white wine, frowning as he was unsure as to what Robin would want. 

Just as he’d decided to leave the wine out in case Robin wanted it, he heard his mum’s voice. “Robin!” She said happily, and her voice changed. “Where’s Harry?” She asked, a bit sharp. 

“Right here, Mum!” Harry called quickly, not wanting to alarm her. 

There was a second of silence, so Harry poked his head around the corner, smiling. Anne looked from Harry to Robin a few times, her face finally settling from something Harry couldn’t place to relief, and then happiness. “Are you alright, darling?” She asked, and Harry nodded.

“Got dinner ready for you; go wash up. Me and Robin can set the table,” he answered, and then bit his lip. “Erm. If you don’t mind, I mean,” he said to Robin.

“No, of course,” Robin answered, looking from Harry to Anne, and back to Harry.

Harry moved away, back into the kitchen, and smiled a bit in spite of himself as he heard Robin kiss his mum. 

“You’re here? Alone?” He heard his mum whisper, and Robin chuckled.

“Go change; we’ll talk at dinner, yeah?” Harry heard another smacking kiss sound, and then Robin said, a bit quieter, “You look beautiful, by the way.”

Harry was just setting his mum’s place when Robin came back into the kitchen, and Harry indicated the plates on the counter. “You’ve got the extra pork chop; I’ve got the extra pears,” he said, and Robin thanked him and brought over both the plates. 

Harry inhaled sharply when Robin moved in close, to set their plates down, and Robin must have noticed. “Oh – sorry,” he said, and quickly backed up, going back to the kitchen to get a glass for himself.

“N-no, it’s fine,” Harry said, blushing a bit. Embarrassed. “I – just. You know. Teachers don’t really – they’re careful not to get close, and stuff,” he mumbled, trying to explain, but Robin wasn’t having any of it. 

“Hey,” he said quietly, keeping his voice gruff, “I understand, yeah? I mean – well, no, I really don’t, but I’m trying.” Robin sighed and set down his glass, and Harry bit his lip and only flinched a little as their eyes met. “I’m just as lost as you are, mate, okay?” He said. “I mean, I don’t really know what’s okay and what’s not, so I can kind of tell you don’t like being in charge all that much, but you _have_ to work with me. I won’t do something if you tell me not to. I promise. But I can’t _not do_ something if you don’t tell me not to do it, you know what I mean?”

Harry nodded, bowing his head. “Okay,” he said quietly, and Robin sighed.

“I’m not upset; you know that, right?” He asked, and Harry looked up a little. “I’m not, not at all. I think you’re a great kid. I’m just on some shaky grounds. I don’t want to overstep any boundaries, but at the same time, I don’t want you _or_ your mum thinking I’m losing interest in getting to know the two of you. I really love her, and I’d love to – to get to the point of us being comfortable being around each other. I don’t know if that’s something you’re interested in…”

“No – I mean, yeah,” Harry blurted, nodding. “Yeah, I’d – I’d like to be – comfortable, or whatever. Being around you, I mean; I’m – I’m comfortable with – like, life, and stuff. Whatever.”

Robin smiled as Harry cut himself off, blushing, and continued. “So, good, then. We both would like that. So, honestly, mate. Anything you’ve got, lay it on me. I’ll do my best. I really don’t want to make you uncomfortable in your own home. Or anywhere, really.”

Harry nodded, chewing his lip as he thought. “I – yeah,” he agreed, “okay. I mean, I’m not – I don’t really…I’m not good with, like, talking about stuff all the time? I mean I’m really – with, like, being in charge. I mean I want things to happen my way but at the same time, I’m not really – I don’t like, like…being in control, or – whatever.”

Robin nodded, a little smile curving his lips. “You’re a lot like your mum, you know that?” He asked, and Harry flushed with pride.

“What about Harry’s mum?” Anne said as she walked into the kitchen in fresh clothes, her hair pulled up away from her face and looking between her boyfriend and son.

Robin didn’t answer, just smiled at her, so Harry said, “I was – telling Robin how we like the, erm, Dijon mustard. On our pork chops,” he said swiftly, shooting Robin a look while Anne took her seat. “Now he’s all convinced we’re something _alike_ ,” Harry continued with a jesting grimace.

“Don’t tell him you’re adopted, Harry,” she stage-whispered. “I’ve already lied about labor pains with your birth!”

Harry laughed as he sat down in his chair, next to his still-open laptop, which was running some kind of stream of numbers. Harry scooted it over the tiniest bit, in case he spilled, and his mum made a disapproving sound at him through her mouthful of wine. She swallowed and said, “Harry, move your computer from the table, love; it’s dinner!”

Harry was just about to argue when Robin added, “Just don’t close it, okay? It needs to stay open or that anti-virus will take _hours_ to install, no matter what you do.”

Harry moved his computer carefully into the living room, setting it on the coffee table and coming back to sit down. 

“…to install it; his trial run’s up,” Robin was saying quietly to Anne.

“Well, thank you,” she murmured, and then cleared her throat when Harry took his seat. “So, how’d you two end up on a date while I was gone?” She asked, and Robin smiled. 

“When’s _our_ dinner date this week?” He asked her, and then looked at Harry in good humor.

“Tomorrow,” she answered, and Harry laughed, making her face show her confusion.

“Robin showed up thinking it was _tonight_ ,” he explained, “and basically, I remembered he was, like, a computer guy, and asked him to fix my computer real quick. I offered him dinner, though,” he added quickly, before Anne could scold him for asking Robin for favors. “Like, so he didn’t have to go home alone after getting excited for a date with you, or whatever.” Harry coughed self-consciously when he noticed his mum was staring at him, a little bit of awe and a little bit of shock written clearly on her face. 

“Oh,” she said simply, and then a smile grew on her face so wide it looked nearly painful. Harry blushed. 

“It was nothing,” he mumbled to her. Robin coughed and then asked Anne about her day, so she started on about it, with Robin going next and Harry just mumbling something about Louis’ concussion getting better. 

“He’s concussed?” Robin asked, looking a little alarmed and concerned. 

“Yeah,” Harry said, confused as he looked up at the man. “You didn’t – didn’t you see it happen at the game?”

Now, _Robin_ looked confused as he shook his head. “No, I was at home,” he answered.

Harry looked at his mum and then back at Robin, and felt a bit dumb. “Oh,” he answered. “I just – figured you were coming to the games with my mum. And then, like. Going home, or something.”

Robin chuckled a little bit, but shook his head. “No,” he answered, “I wasn’t sure if you wanted me there, or not. Didn’t want to throw you off, or anything, so I usually just have Anne give me the highlights the next time we see each other.”

“Oh,” Harry said again, pushing his beans around his plate. He didn’t much like the beans, but his mum insisted they went with pork chops (they didn’t), so he made sure to always put them out. “I – you can come, if you want to,” he said eventually. “I mean, obviously, you don’t have to, like that’s – that’s fine, it’s not a _thing_ , or whatever. I just – if you want to come watch, you – you can. Lou – Lou got a few offers, from some scouts?” Robin nodded, interested, so Harry continued. “And he, like. He’s been playing harder than ever; it’s really amazing to see what he can do on the field. He’s been _insane_ , he’s doing so good.” Harry coughed when he caught his mum hiding her smile, only then aware he’d been bragging about his boyfriend. “I mean – we’re all. Like, we’re a good team. We’ve only lost once, so we’re district champions. We, erm. We go to regional competition in two weeks? And if we win all those, then, we go into the state. And then, like. You know, whatever. Further, if we keep winning. Those games, like. They’re gonna be really – cool, like, if you’re into it. So if you want to, you know. If you feel like it. …You can.” Harry took a deep breath, calming himself down, and then, feeling a little hot, put his head back down to eat his food. 

“Sure, thanks, Harry,” Robin said after a second, and Harry just nodded. 

“I’ll let you know when and where the game is, if you want, once I find out,” Anne volunteered.

“Yeah, definitely,” Robin said to her, and Harry’s lips curled up, letting himself feel proud for a moment. 

\---

“It was actually, like, alright,” Harry revealed into his phone, a little excitement in his voice.

“ _That’s awesome, sweetheart_ ,” Louis crooned into Harry’s ear. He still sounded tired, but Harry knew he’d be allowed to sleep tonight. 

“Yeah,” he said happily. “Oh, and he actually, like, might come to –”

Harry paused when he heard a knock on the door. “Just a second, Lou,” he said into the phone, and then called out, “Come in.” Harry’s mum peeked around the door, and Harry picked up his phone again. “Hey, I’ll talk to you tomorrow, alright? Are you okay to drive in the morning?” Louis answered with an affirmative, so Harry cradled the phone a bit closer and said, “Okay, well. Go to sleep. …I love you.” He smiled when Louis said it back, and then hung up the phone, smiling at his mum when she took a seat on his bed.

“Did Robin go home?” He asked her, and she nodded with a smile on her face.

“Yeah, he said he wanted to stock up on work hours now so he’ll feel more comfortable taking time off later, for your games. If you were serious about him coming,” she added, eyebrows rising in question.

Harry let his confusion show. “Erm, yeah, if he wants,” he said. “Is that…I thought you’d like that?”

“No, of course I’m okay with it,” Anne reassured him quickly, placing a hand on his knee softly. “I just – wanted to make sure. That you would be okay with it.”

Harry smiled a little for her benefit and swallowed. “Mum, I know how important he is to you,” Harry said, “and – and I think I kind of – saw how important you are to him today, too. He’s – the way he looks at you…that’s how I feel when I – when I look at Louis,” he admitted, blushing so bad he could feel it on the back o fhis neck. “And. And I think _I_ deserve Louis, which makes you deserve Robin just by default.”

Anne smiled fondly at Harry, patting his knee and nodding. “And I _do_ deserve someone like Robin,” she reasoned slowly. “And I’ll have him – or someone like him – one day. But whether I deserve it or not, you will _always_ be more important. No matter what. You know that, right?”

Harry chewed his lip as Anne looked him deep in the eyes, and he hesitated. “But Mum, why –”

“Let me put it this way,” she said, smiling. “I’ve known you since you were created. I carried you while you grew those arms and legs and dimples and eyes. You’re more a part of me than anyone else in the world. You are genuinely, innately _mine_ , and have been your whole entire life. You _are_ my baby boy.” Her voice shook, and Harry looked up and was horrified to see tears in his mum’s eyes. 

“Mum, don’t –”

Harry was wrapped up in a fierce hug, and after a moment, he hugged her back, swallowing back a stupid, sudden lump in his throat. 

Anne took a shuddery breath next to Harry’s ear, and then murmured, “You will never understand how proud I am of you, or how much I love you, or how much I would do – would give up in a heartbeat – if I thought you needed me to. You are the only person in the world I would lay down my life to protect. You’re the only person in the world I would kill for, and you’re the only person in the world I would end a relationship for. Do you understand that? You mean more to me. Always have. …Always will.”

Harry held his mum tightly and bit his lip, unsure if all of this had been building the past years or if she was genuinely that grateful to have Robin invited to a high school football game or two. “I – Mum, I…” Harry pulled back and looked his mum in the eye. “I love you, too,” he said seriously. “And – as of yet, I don’t – I mean, there’s nothing, like, _wrong_ with him. Robin, I mean. He’s – he’s really nice to me, and to Lou, and he – I like the way he looks at you. It’s …good. And, like. As long as he keeps all that up, I don’t – see myself, like, having an issue. I mean. I was – I sweated a lot, when it was just – me and him. I was – I was really scared. …But he’s very…respectful. Like, we had a whole conversation about it, and it was really…nice. And he – means a lot to you, so. I, erm. I want to – to get there? One day? Maybe? You know. I want to try, at least.”

Anne looked at Harry with wonder in her eyes, and as she pulled him in for another hug, Harry’s phone went off, Louis calling him. 

Eyebrows furrowed, because Louis usually texted at night, rather than called, Harry mumbled, “Sorry – one second, okay?” He pressed talk and answered. “Lou?”

“ _Harry. Yeah. Erm. I think I just got a letter from your father._ ”


	43. Part 42.

Louis scooted forward on his bed, legs and arms spread so he could wrap around Harry. He held his breath when Harry flinched for a moment, but Harry immediately relaxed into his hold after just a moment. Harry grabbed one of Louis’ hands and pressed his tear-soaked face against it, Louis feeling the last of Harry’s tears rubbing off on his wrist. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, shaking his head in shock.

“ _Hey_ , this is _not_ your fault,” Louis said sternly. Harry kept his eyes down.

Louis’ bedroom door opened and Jay came in with her long, elegant fingers looped through four mugs of tea. She carefully pressed a mug into Anne’s deceptively steady fists, passed one each to Louis and Harry, who blew on his mug and then set it right down on Louis’ nightstand, and curled her hands around the warmth of her own mug as she sat down at Louis’ desk. Anne accepted the mug, but set it down on top of Louis’ dresser and continued her pacing once the mug was out of her hand. They both thanked Jay, and Harry shifted his feet. Louis pulled the blanket up over Harry’s toes, tucking them in under his crossed ankles. Harry’s toes were always cold. Louis leaned to kiss Harry’s temple, but Harry shifted away with an apologetic look back to Louis.

“I think I’m just gonna go – have a shower…if that’s okay?” Harry ended his statement like a question, looking at the mums, who both nodded. Harry climbed off the bed, looking back at Louis with a blush as he reached into Louis’ drawers to get some spare clothes for the night – probably embarrassed to be so domestic in front of their mothers. 

As soon as Harry shut the door behind him, Anne stopped pacing and stuck her head in her hands, sinking down onto a corner of Louis’ bed. Jay opened her mouth, but Louis held up his finger, waiting to hear the water in the shower turn on. He had a feeling Harry would listen to see if they talked about him behind his back. Louis heard the bathroom door shut and water flow turn on, loud enough in the bathroom that Harry wouldn’t be able to hear anything else, and he waved his mum to talk.

“He isn’t blaming himself really, is he?” Jay asked Anne and Louis concernedly. Louis sighed wearily, but Anne looked at Jay blankly. 

“Because Harry and Louis are dating, Louis is now receiving ominous letters from Harry’s sex-offender father; of _course_ he’s blaming himself,” she said quickly, chewing on her thumb nail. “Of course he thinks it’s his fault. If it weren’t for him, Louis wouldn’t have been contacted at all.”

Horrified, Louis swallowed tightly, willing himself to calm down before he spoke, because it sounded a lot like Anne blamed Harry for the letter Louis’d received, too.

Thankfully, Anne must have seen Louis’ expression, because she sighed and said, “Louis, I don’t think Harry is _to blame_ for this. But the fact does stand that if you weren’t in a relationship with Harry, you wouldn’t have gotten a letter like this. It’s not Harry’s _fault_ ; you’ll never hear me say otherwise, but the facts are facts and I can see why Harry’s blaming himself. He feels responsible. You – he doesn’t show it in the same ways as you do at all, but he’s every bit as protective of you as you are of him, and _his father_ has just opened up a new door of possibilities because you’re dating him.”

Louis nodded – he _knew_ these things – and took a deep breath. “It’s just – Harry didn’t say anything about me, really, in his letter back to his dad. I mean, he didn’t write my name, my age…much less my physical _address_. How could he have found me?”

Anne shook her head, looking just as bewildered as Louis was. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I don’t get it. Des was…I mean, he was _obviously_ a monster, with what he did to us, but he was never – he was never a fighter? If that makes sense. I was the only person he _ever_ fought with; he was so rarely angry. It doesn’t make sense to me, him personally threatening a high school student.”

“A student who’s dating his son,” Louis pointed out. “The son he – messed with.” They all flinched at that, and Anne grinded her teeth, but Louis made himself say it. “It could be like a…a jealousy thing, or something.”

“I know,” she said after a moment, irritation seeping through in her response. “But it just doesn’t seem like him. He’s not stupid.”

The room was quiet, each of them lost in their own heads. 

“Look, this might not even be him,” Louis interrupted half-heartedly. “I mean, it wasn’t _signed_.”

Anne snatched up the letter again, reading it for the umpteenth time. “’ _Louis Tomlinson, thank you for taking care of my son. Stop now, or I’ll have to take care of you, and you might not find it pleasant._ ’” She looked up at Louis solidly. “Of course it’s him, unless you’ve been taking care of anyone else’s son,” she said – not accusing; she knew Louis wouldn’t cheat.

Louis just sighed, and Jay moved from her seat at the computer desk to sit down close to Louis. Louis leaned into her embrace, staring at a run in the thread of her sweatpants. “He’s so freaked out,” Louis murmured to her, and swallowed. “I don’t know what I need to do.”

“Maybe Karen could help,” Anne mumbled back to him, and Louis nodded slowly.

“Karen?” Jay asked, out of the loop. 

“Harry’s therapist,” Louis told her absently. “She’s really great.” Jay nodded, satisfied, and the three of them stayed quiet, lost in their own thoughts until the door opened again. 

Harry slowly made his way into the room, looking cautiously around at Jay, Anne, and Louis, like he thought they’d made some huge important decision without him. Louis wanted to scream, to yell, to find some way to fight back against this monster of a shadow from his boyfriend’s ugly past. It wasn’t fair that Harry’s father could just come back into his life after all this time. After what he did. It wasn’t fair that Harry had to suffer and walk around just _waiting_ for the other shoe to drop. 

Harry was carrying his clothes from before the shower, all folded up neatly, and Louis had a faint moment of amusement when he noticed Harry’s boxers were folded up _inside_ his jeans, like he hadn’t wanted Jay to see them. He placed the folded-up clothes into Louis’ hamper slowly, self-conscious because he could feel the eyes on him, and he was blushing as he leaned against the wall and looked back and forth between Louis and Jay, obviously wanting to be with Louis but not wanting to kick Jay from her spot. 

Louis cleared his throat, and their mums both seemed to realize they were staring at Harry, because they both looked down at their hands, fidgeting and unsure of what to do. 

“I’m – I’m tired,” Harry said in a tiny voice finally, looking between his mum and Louis. 

Anne nodded. “Come on, then,” she said, standing up. “Let’s go on home, get you to bed. Sunday tomorrow; you get to sleep in, anyway.” 

She started walking towards him, but Harry balked, and looked at Louis with wide, nervous eyes. Louis saw the panic within them and was up instantly, making to pack his bags before he realized that with a night like this, he should probably ask permission. Louis looked to Anne when Harry did, and back to his own mum, eyes pleading that they both let him be with Harry. Louis completely understood that Anne was not up to letting Harry stay the night away from her, but he sincerely hoped his mum wouldn’t feel the same way about him.

“Please,” Harry whispered, and it was probably made for Anne, but Jay bit her lip like it affected her, too. She looked at Anne and they communicated the way that mothers do – over their kids’ heads (or around them, in Harry’s case) – before Anne nodded. 

“Of course,” she said eventually, and Harry’s eyes shut instantly in relief, and Louis was grabbing his backpack and a duffle bag in case Harry wanted him to stay a bit longer. 

Harry watched Louis pack and slowly snuck over to the dresser, running his fingers over some of Louis’ softer shirts and a sweater. Louis caught Harry’s hand gently and pressed a kiss over his knuckles, lifting the tops and sliding them into the bag. Harry’s grateful smile was wobbly, but it was there, and that’s what mattered. 

Louis followed Anne’s car (after Jay did a quick check to make sure he was okay, ever-conscious of his previous concussion) in his own, and Harry sat quietly, curled up with the heater pointed at his face. Once they were all inside, Anne caught Louis suddenly in a hug and held on to him tight, and Harry joined in after only a second. Anne kissed both their temples and sent them up to bed, and they undressed for bed in silence. 

Harry barely let go of Louis for a second, and while emotional Harry usually equaled clingy and touchy Harry, Louis couldn’t help but notice the difference in Harry’s touches this time. When Harry had been upset before, he curled up into Louis’ arms. If Louis got a bit too far, Harry would always reach out, looking upset enough that Louis stepped closer until they were within touching distance again. If Harry somehow became unaware of where Louis was, he would look a bit lost for the seconds it took to find him.

This time, though, Harry was wrapping Louis up, making himself bigger enough to surround Louis. When Louis walked to put his bag in the corner to prevent them from tripping in the morning, Harry had looked around wildly, only relaxing when he realized Louis was mere feet away – and then he gently tugged Louis closer to him. He touched Louis as if Louis were fragile and breakable, and after being hugged so tightly by Anne earlier, it dawned on Louis that they were more concerned for _him_ than upset at the _situation_. 

The thought melted Louis’ heart, and he only fidgeted impatiently a little bit as Harry turned the light off and stumbled back to the bed, crawling up into his spot against the wall. Harry curled Louis up against him, flexing his feet up behind Louis’ heels and tucking Louis’ head underneath his chin like he could make a circle completely around Louis if he needed to. It wasn’t anything Louis was used to, and it made him feel a little weirdly warm, but he let it happen, knowing Harry probably felt like he needed to do it. 

Louis curled his knees up a bit, then, and wrapped an arm around Harry, tucking his fingers between Harry’s hip and the mattress, his other hand brushing Harry’s sternum. Harry pulled his blanket up over their shoulders and leaned forward to kiss Louis’ lips softly. 

They’d lapsed into still quiet when Louis shifted, and Harry whispered, “I don’t know if you’re okay or if you’re just acting like it, but thank you for letting me protect you, anyway.”

Louis petted at Harry’s chest with two fingers for a bit and nodded. “I dunno if I’m scared,” he answered truthfully. “I just – I probably am scared, a little bit, of your father. But more than anything, honestly…I’m more scared of anything happening to the girls. My mum. You.” Harry stayed quiet, and Louis elaborated with a little tiny sigh, shaking his head minutely. “Sometimes I wonder, you know. If I’ve done a good job of making you understand how stupidly much you mean to me. I know I show you I love you,” he added, when he felt Harry tense up like he was about to interrupt, “but it’s more than just a bit of love. And I know that’s how it is for you, I do. …But I don’t think you understand how distraught I would be if something happened to you. Even something little, like. …It’s stupid, I know. I know it is. I can’t control everything that happens to you. But…but if there’s something I can do to keep you from getting hurt, and I don’t manage to do it, or keep things from getting to you, it just – it _sucks_. It’s such an intense thing, for me, too. I’ve never had someone who means so much to me. It’s just…a lot, I guess.”

Louis’ stomach felt like it was on fire as Harry chewed over his words, digesting them and figuring out how he felt about them. “So that’s why you got so upset with the Zayn stuff,” he assumed finally, and Louis coughed uncomfortably. 

“Yeah,” he said eventually, when he realized Harry was waiting for confirmation. “Yeah. And that – that was even worse, because, you know, Zayn’s – next to you and my family, Zayn and Stan are the two most important people in the entire world to me. Zayn’s like my _brother_ , and he said something so bad – granted, he didn’t – he didn’t realize how bad it was, but still. It drove me insane, and I was so angry that such an important person could say something like that about another important person. I couldn’t just, like, let myself get over it, but you could, and that drove me insane. I guess I was so, like, paranoid that Zayn would – he’s not a mean guy. He’s my brother, you know, I love him. It’s just that he doesn’t always think things are insulting if he states them like facts rather than, like, saying them in a mean _tone_ , but sometimes it’s still insulting and he doesn’t really get it. And I was so paranoid he’d do that, and then it felt like I didn’t trust my own best mate, and then it was kind of just – sides of me, warring with each other, I suppose. It was really…it sucked, and I kind of went insane for a minute. …I guess I never explained that,” Louis swallowed as he saw Harry watching him closely. Louis licked his lips. “Sorry,” he added, and Harry’s lips curved into a smile.

Louis closed his eyes when Harry reached up and cupped his cheek, and it was only a moment before fingers were tracing random imaginary lines over Louis’ face softly, and Harry spoke. “I’m glad you explained that to me,” he said quietly. “It explains a lot. Like – a lot about how you are. In general, I mean, but…especially with me.” Louis hummed to show he was listening. “But it’s also like – I’m the same? Like, not as – not as _much_ , I think – maybe a lot of yours comes with, like, being a big brother, you know? Like you’ve always felt like you’re supposed to protect the people you care about; I never had that. I was on my own, just my parents, and then – after everything happened, you know, but I was still just a helpless little kid, I couldn’t – it was more about sticking _with_ my mum, rather than – than sticking _up_ for her. But I – I don’t know how he got your address, and I didn’t tell him anything about you except that you’re great, so I know it’s not – I know it’s, like. Not my fault. But…he’s still – it’s still _my_ father that’s, like, sending you _mail_ , now, you know? And you’re – you’re mine. Like. I can’t help but feel like there’s nothing for me to do but be here for you, and with this being – with this being, like, my own father, my flesh and blood, or whatever, I just. I can’t let anything happen to you, Lou, I just – I _can’t_. You – you _have to_ be okay. You just _have_ to.” 

Louis’ eyes opened as Harry’s voice got all thin and he started sounded choked up, and he shifted until he was wiping tiny little tears from under Harry’s eyes. “ _Hey_ , babe, I’m – I’m _fine_ , alright? I’m freakin’ _aces_. ‘S like a spy movie, a little bit, yeah?” Harry let out a throaty laugh, shaking his head, and bit his lip. Louis pulled him forward when he saw another round of tears stem up from Harry’s eyes. “Hazza, we are going to be _fine_. We’ll – we’ll be okay. I have your back if you’ve got mine?” Louis squeezed Harry a few times, trying to bring a smile out. “Well, I suppose I’d have your back either way,” he added, and Harry looked up at him with watery eyes. “I’m too fond of your little bum,” Louis said ruefully. Harry gave a wet-sounding laugh, but Louis knew he’d have to take what he could get. 

They lay in quiet, and Louis curled back down a little smaller in Harry’s arms. “For the record,” he said, “I’ll always do my best to give you what you need. Being the little spoon once in a while won’t kill me.”

Harry didn’t answer, but he smiled gratefully and kissed Louis’ lips before he snuggled Louis just a tiny bit tighter. They sighed together as they fell asleep in the wake of Desmond Styles’ threat.

\---

When Louis woke up, he was sweating. Harry was like a space heater at the best of times and held the heat of the blazing sun at the worst. Louis groaned as he whipped the covers off of them, rolling his eyes sleepily as Harry made a small, unhappy sound and curled up tighter around Louis at the sudden exposure. 

Louis rubbed his back soothingly until Harry was passed out and lightly snoring again, and then extracted himself so he didn’t wet the bed. He showered quickly, brushed his teeth and washed his face, and put his contacts in, and by the time he got back into Harry’s room, his clean clothes sticking lightly to his wet skin, Harry was yawning as he sat up, stretching his arms until his shoulder cracked disgustingly.

“Ugh,” Louis mumbled at him as he shut the door, but Harry only grinned at him, his sleepiness making his face look more dopey than anything else. Louis was endeared anyway. “Morning,” he said and leaned down to kiss Harry on his way to put his clothes back in his bag.

Instead, though, Harry kissed him back and wrapped hands around the back of Louis’ neck, keeping him from pulling away. Harry hummed into Louis’ mouth, and Louis laughed against his lips. “Let me put these away,” he began, but Harry made a disapproving sound and shoved the clothes from Louis’ hands onto the floor and started laying back down on the bed, pulling Louis with him.

And, really. Louis was only one man.

He laughed in surprise and delight as Harry lay down on the bed, curls fanning out hilariously across his pillow, and pulled Louis down on top of him, his lips slotting between Louis’ easily. Louis shivered when Harry’s sleep-clammy hands smoothed down his back under his sweater, and he rolled gently to the side so that he wasn’t so much on top as he was leaning over Harry, who didn’t seem to mind.

Louis ran a hand over Harry’s bare, warm chest, fingers drumming lightly against the little bumps of Harry’s abs – the sit-ups and leg crunches had been doing _wonders_ for Louis’ boyfriend – and traced a bit of the v-cut on Harry’s hip. 

Harry preened under all the attention, and Louis couldn’t help but smile when Harry’s hands drifted away from his back and under the waistband of his sweatpants, his oversized palms cupping Louis’ bum. 

“Love your bum,” Harry breathed into Louis’ mouth, and then froze like he hadn’t realized he said it out loud. Louis laughed at the blush that enflamed his face, hiding the laughter into Harry’s neck. Thankfully, Harry laughed after a moment of embarrassment, and a hand left Louis’ bum to cup his face and bring it back up for more kissing.

Louis squeezed lightly over Harry’s hip, and felt it against his own hip when Harry’s cock twitched, but before he could do anything, the door opened slowly and Harry and Louis sprang apart, looking up with wide eyes and flushed faces to see Anne, who looked absolutely _mortified_.

“Oh my god!” She said, slapping a hand over her eyes when Harry exclaimed, “ _Mum_!” 

“I’m so sorry! I thought you were still asleep; it’s so early on a Sunday morning!” Anne said, her hands still over her eyes.

Louis sat up, pulling away from Harry. “We’re – we’re decent, Anne, you can…” He mumbled, face burning lightly.

Anne lowered her hand slowly, looking from Louis to Harry and back, apology etched into her face. Harry’s hands were covering his own face, and Anne watched him. “Harry, I’m _so_ sorry,” she began.

“It’s okay, Mum,” he answered through his fingers, humiliation clear in his tone. Louis fought a smile and patted his thigh. 

“I’m – erm, I just – wanted to let you know I’m going grocery shopping…I’ll – I’m so sorry,” she said, backing out of the room. “I’ll – erm, I’ll be back around lunch,” she said, sheepishly and very obviously closing the door.

Louis made it until he heard Anne’s car back down the driveway before he burst into laughter, and Harry groaned, his voice cracking the tiniest bit. “Oh, it’s not that bad,” Louis laughed, rolling back to lean over Harry and prying his hands from his burning face. “Could have been a whole lot worse,” he reasoned.

“I don’t see how,” Harry moaned, turning to try and hide his face in the pillow.

“Could’ve seen me with my tongue up your arse,” Louis reasoned, and Harry choked, going a little tense. Louis’ grin turned a bit evil. “Would you like that?” He asked, rubbing Harry’s chest.

“The mum part or the – other thing?” Harry asked, and Louis snorted.

“Not the _mum part_ , you goof,” he laughed, dropping kisses over Harry’s face. “The _tongue_ part.”

Harry swallowed loud enough for Louis to hear, and then he nodded, his breath a little faster. “Ye-yeah,” he stuttered out, his body stretching out like it was subconscious. He looked up at Louis, bottom lip bitten into his mouth and eyes wide as he nodded. “…Please, Lou,” he added, and Louis grinned.

He kissed Harry, sitting up on his knees with his back bent so Harry could stay down as his hands slid down Harry’s torso. Harry’s hips jerked when Louis dipped his fingers under the waistband of Harry’s underwear, and waited for Harry to nod and lift his hips up to take them off. 

Louis sucked little kisses between Harry’s thighs, face pressing against his pubic hair and lips sliding across his cock. 

“Lou – Lou,” Harry said urgently, and Louis looked up at him, sliding his hands along Harry’s milky thighs soothingly. 

“Okay?” He asked, and Harry nodded.

“I – I want to try it again,” he whispered.

Louis’ brows furrowed. “Rimming me?” He asked, smoothing over Harry’s thighs. “Sweetheart, it’s okay if you don’t li-”

“No, erm,” Harry interrupted, sitting up so he could grab Louis’ hands and hold them. “I want to try…you, erm. Touching me again,” he said. “On my – on my penis.”

Louis stared at him in shock and then swallowed, nerves coming back like this was his first time. “Are you sure?” He asked, fighting to keep his voice calm, and Harry nodded, so Louis nodded with him. “Yeah, okay,” he said, shifting back a little bit. “Do you – now?”

“Yeah,” Harry said breathlessly.

“Okay,” Louis answered, shifting back a little bit more and then leaning in to kiss Harry thoroughly. 

“Mm – but if I start to – to freak out,” Harry said, “just – don’t stop; just, erm. Slow down? Like. I’ll say ‘touch’ if I have to, but, like. Don’t stop unless I do?”

Louis swallowed, made uneasy by that, and he stroked Harry’s cheek. “Babe, are you sure? Really? I just – I’d hate for that to happen again if…”

But Harry was smiling serenely, looking into Louis’ eyes. “Hey,” he said, “I’ll be alright. I want – I want you to. Please.”

Louis searched for any sign of hesitation or uncertainty in Harry’s face, but nodded when he didn’t find anything. “Yeah,” he said, nodding. He cupped the back of Harry’s neck and kissed him again, his free hand resting on Harry’s chest, and pushed him back down slowly onto the bed. Louis rolled off to the side, leaning over him, and scratched and tickled lightly at Harry’s tummy and chest, thumbing over his nipples in turn to have Harry’s breath coming in fast and his hips rolling into nothing, cock hard as ever where it lay up against his stomach. Louis slid his tongue filthily against Harry’s to hear him moan and scraped his teeth against Harry’s bottom lip. “Ready?” He breathed. 

Harry moaned in lieu of an answer, one hand between the mattress and Louis’ ribcage and the other on the side of Louis’ neck, so Louis broke the kiss to run the pad of his thumb across his tongue, hoping that if it was wet Harry would associate it more with his tongue than his hand. As soon as his thumb was wet, Harry pulled at his neck and rested their foreheads together, breathing heavily. Nails dug into Louis’ ribcage as he ran his thumb over the vein on the underside of Harry’s cock, and Harry’s breath stuttered. 

Watching carefully, Louis ran his thumb up and down Harry’s cock. Harry let out a whine and then his tongue was hot against Louis’ lips, desperate for the familiarity of Louis’ mouth. Louis kissed him back, flattening his hand on Harry’s cock to let him feel the drag of his palm up the underside of his cock. Harry arched into the touch and Louis pressed a little harder for more pressure, taking a deep breath to work up the courage before he curled his fingers lightly around Harry’s cock.

Harry froze, and Louis slowed down, feeling fingernails digging into the top of his shoulder where Harry’s hand shifted. “Harry?” Louis asked. “Harry, babe, look at me,” he said when Harry didn’t answer. 

Harry’s eyes were wide and a little lost-looking, and Louis brushed a hand down Harry’s cheek when he saw a tiny bit of fear in his green eyes. “Lou,” he murmured, hips moving jerkily, like they weren’t sure whether he wanted more or less touch on his cock.

“Hey, babe,” Louis whispered roughly, his hand barely moving on Harry’s cock. “’S just me, yeah?”

Harry’s breath hitched and he stared sideways at Louis for a moment before he finally nodded. “Yeah,” he said, and bit his lip. “Lou, can you –” He broke off with a whine that ended in a squeak as he jerked his hips up into Louis’ fist.

Getting the hint, Louis started moving his fist again, a little slower until Harry whined again. Louis tightened his hand and Harry gasped.

“No, n- Lou, not –” Harry’s breath grew shuddery, and Louis murmured quickly to him as he loosened his fist again and slowed down.

“Look at me, Harry. Come on, Hazza. Look up at me, baby. It’s just me. Just Louis, okay?” Louis felt fear rippling through his chest, but Harry eventually rolled himself onto his side, scooting almost impossibly closer to Louis, his eyes opening and his neck craning as he looked up at Louis. 

“Please, Lou – not tight, just –” Harry’s breath cut off and his eyes dropped shut when Louis started moving his hand over Harry’s cock again. Harry’s hips jerked up into Louis’ hand, and Louis shifted to lean up on one hand and jerk Harry off with the other. He leaned down and started licking and sucking at Harry’s neck, and with Harry whimpering the way he was, it wasn’t long until Harry gasped, eyes flying open, and he came over Louis’ hand, back arching off the bed and thighs trembling violently. 

Louis slowed his hand to a stop and laid back, pulling Harry on top of him. Harry was flushed down to his chest and let himself be maneuvered without fuss, flopping his head on Louis’ chest with his face turned into Louis’ neck. 

“Did it,” he breathed, and Louis chuckled despite himself, ignoring the erection so hard it was probably piercing Harry’s hip as Harry pressed a tired kiss to his collarbone.

“You sure did, sweetheart,” he answered, and Harry hummed happily. “I’m so proud of you,” he added.

Harry nuzzled closer. “Thank you,” he whispered, suddenly sounding a little more raw than blissed out.

Louis stroked Harry’s hair, brushing them back even though he couldn’t see Harry’s face from this angle. “Wasn’t _me_ , sweetheart,” he said mildly. “It was all up to you. I should be thanking _you_ for letting me touch you at all; much less such a…an area of your body that’s had some emotional stuff attached to it.” 

Harry grunted, like he agreed with Louis. “But that’s – this is – maybe…maybe _he_ did it, you know? Like maybe – maybe you’re not the…the _first_ person who’s – erm – done that…but you’re, like. Now I know you – I know he won’t be the _last_ , and that’s because of you.”

Louis swallowed carefully and kissed the top of Harry’s hair. He could go on for hours about how it was really Harry who’d done the important things, and how it wasn’t up to Louis at all, but Harry. He could tell Harry how happy and proud he was, and how incredible Harry was, but something in Harry’s voice told him he didn’t need to hear it, so he hummed against Harry’s curls and tightened his hold on him. “Thank you,” he told him instead. “I love you, sweetheart.”

The rest of their lazy Sunday could wait. Louis picked up his phone and turned on some music, and the two snuggled on.


	44. Part 43.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long! Hope you guys like it. :) Happy holidays! xx

Harry sat close to Louis as his friends all stared at him, waiting. 

After speaking to Karen and a conversation with his mum and Louis, Harry had decided to let his friends know what was going on, and though Louis had only suggested Niall and Liam, as they were _Harry’s_ best friends, Harry had called Zayn and Stan over, as well, because they were his friends, too, and also, they were _Louis’_ friends – and if he was being stalked by such a horrible monster, Louis would need some support, too. 

Liam was sat on the chair at Harry’s desk, and Niall was sat on the actual desk, eyes flicking back and forth between Harry, Louis, and Zayn, who was sat on the floor, next to Stan.

Harry shifted and looked over to Louis, who was watching him in his usual careful way. Knowing he was there made Harry feel a little bit braver and stronger, and he sat up straight and took Louis’ hand. 

“So, erm, for those of you who – who don’t know,” he began, trying not to stare directly at Stan, “I was – when I was a kid, my, erm. My dad…kind of abused me.” Stan was now staring at Harry the exact way he hated – shock and pity – and Zayn noticed and bumped him with his shoulder. Stan looked over at him, confused, and Zayn shook his head, but Louis rubbed the back of Harry’s hand, so Harry continued. “Erm, yeah. He was – like, not…good. So anyway, my mum kind of…walked in on him abusing me, and he knocked me out and then – then went and started hitting her. And she got him with, like, a pan off the stove, or whatever, and – sent him to jail.” Harry’s breath was coming a little short, not quite used to telling the story even though he’d done it so much lately – even though just having a physical relationship in general had made him think about his father more in the past nine or ten months than he had in the past few years – and Louis must have noticed, because he took over.

“Harry’s father’s been in jail for the better part of a decade. Harry and his mum have moved houses since then, and neither of them have written to him…until about a week and a half ago. He wrote Harry a letter saying he was getting out early, and that he wanted to see Harry once he got a place and got settled in.” Niall and Liam gaped; Harry had confided that Des wrote him a letter, but he hadn’t told them what it said. “Harry wrote him back, to tell him basically to leave him alone – that he’s doing well, has a boyfriend and is in football, all that – and last night, I got a letter from Des. A threatening one.”

“Oh, _hell_ no,” Stan interjected, sitting up straight. “Who the fuck does this guy think he is? What’d it say?”

Louis went to answer the question, but Harry cut him off. “It’s not important,” he said, fidgeting when Louis looked at him with a bit of shock in his face. He’d deal with that later. “What’s important is – is that you guys at least know what’s going on. I don’t expect he’s out, yet, as I’ve only got the letter a week and a half ago and he made it sound like it was something that would, like, be at least a few months, but – erm…” Harry stood up and rummaged through the top of his closet, a little storage shelf that had come with the house. He found the photo album he was looking for and brought it back to his bed, folding his feet underneath him and leaning a bit against Louis. 

“I – Mum thought it was important that I at least keep my baby book,” he explained a little sheepishly, feeling like he was being judged a bit. “’S the only place I have his photo, so…” Harry opened his baby book up, seeing pictures of his mum standing at a wall, measuring how much her belly had grown with Harry inside. There was a written bit his mum had done about her pregnancy. The next page had a picture of Harry’s dad, and Harry froze up a bit, tensing. 

Gently, Louis eased the book from Harry’s hands, watching him attentively, and Harry blushed and cleared his throat when he noticed all his friends were looking at him in varying degrees of the same way. “Erm – that’s him. That’s my father. Des Styles. Well – Desmond.”

They all leaned in for a closer look – Liam had known years ago what Des looked like, as Harry’s mum and his mum were friends, but Niall never met him – and Stan opened his mouth to say something, but Zayn elbowed him before he could, so Harry figured he should probably not ask after it. 

Huffing, a bit overwhelmed as the attention returned to him again, Harry brushed his hair from his face. “Just – he might’ve gained weight, or lost, or – whatever, but…if you see him, like, just – let us know? So we can tell my mum and get her and Louis’ sisters and mum taken care of. He’s obviously – I mean, my mum’s the one who put him in _jail_ , but he’s got something he doesn’t like about Lou, too, and he knows his address. I don’t – I don’t want to take any risks.”

His four friends all nodded, and Harry felt Louis press a kiss into his hair. 

“Is there anything else we can do?” Zayn asked, but Harry shook his head.

“He’s – I mean, it wasn’t like he was… _always_ bad…but he’s not someone you guys should be around. Don’t – don’t do anything stupid, like talk to him, or whatever. It’s not worth it, and he’s strong.” Harry swallowed, remembering how tight his father’s hands felt, and his eyes closed momentarily. 

Louis kissed the back of his head again and whispered, “Steady on, babe; we’re almost done.”

Opening his eyes, Harry nuzzled into Louis. He was so lucky to have such a wonderful person in his alley, on his side. Everyone was quiet for a few moments – Liam and Niall probably wanting to say things but not wanting to press Harry; Zayn and Stan probably not sure what they were _allowed_ to say – and normally, Harry would’ve told them to ask whatever, but he really didn’t want to, this time. Louis’ hands wrapped around Harry and rubbed gently at his tummy and abs, but Harry shied away from the touch, suddenly a bit uncomfortable and not really sure why. He threw an apologetic glance to Louis, who nodded just a tiny bit, and Stan shifted around on the floor, drawing Harry’s attention away. 

“So, I guess what he did when you were a kid isn’t something you want to talk about?” He said, and though Harry made himself smile a little, he knew it probably looked fake and awful as he shook his head.

“Not – not right now, at least; sorry,” he said, but Stan didn’t really look surprised, and Liam jumped in because he was a wonderful friend.

“That’s fine,” he said, giving Stan and Zayn a cursory glance. Then he licked his lips, looking to Louis. “You don’t know how he got your address?” He asked, and Harry watched as Louis shook his head.

“Dunno how he got Harry’s, either,” he said.

“Well, that’s easy,” Niall said, shrugging as everyone looked at him. “You can find out where people live with a google search or, like, a Yellow Pages book. It’s hardly an issue, if you know their name.”

“But he didn’t know _my_ name,” Louis pointed out, and Harry chewed on his lip. 

“But you know for a fact it was him, right?” Stan asked, eyes darting between Harry and Louis. “Return address, or something?”

“The return address was some warehouse in Kansas City; we looked it up,” Louis answered.

“But it was definitely him,” Harry piped up. “The handwriting was the same.”

“And of _course_ he wouldn’t put his name and real address on a threatening letter,” Liam muttered, frowning. “You could report him for threats and it’d trace right back to him.”

Harry’s breaths came a little short and he felt like everyone was paying him too much attention, and he didn’t want anyone looking at his father anymore and judging him. They didn’t know him. They hadn’t known what he was like before, except Liam. Harry closed the book and put it back up in his closet, the room silent and watching him. He wanted everyone gone. 

Louis rubbed a hand over his back comfortingly when he sat back down on the bed, and Harry bit his lip. He felt oddly vulnerable. He’d never minded feeling vulnerable before – Liam and Niall were always fine, and Louis was…well. He was _Louis_. And Zayn had seen Harry bawling before, and Stan was a mate, now, too. But it felt like it was too much all at once. 

“Can we – can we, erm…not talk about this anymore, right now?” Harry whispered, blushing. 

“Of course,” Louis murmured, and Stan clapped his hands once before standing up. 

“I’m calling for pizza. Pepperoni? Meat lovers? What’s the vote?”

\---

Harry stopped the ball and hit the ground running, breathing evenly. 

The football season had been winding down, now, April nearly over, they were about to compete in State championships. If they won, they’d go to Regionals, and then Nationals, and it would look _incredible_ for both Harry, as his first year on the team, and Louis, as his senior year and as captain of the team, if they made it that far. 

Coach had been all but killing them in practice, and while Harry certainly wouldn’t say no to a breather or fifty, he wouldn’t complain. Football kept his mind off everything else happening. 

“There you go, Styles,” Coach called out, watching Harry dodge Stan. Try as he might, though, he still couldn’t best Louis, even though he faked left and tried to roll around to the right. Each time he faced Louis, Louis managed to steal from him. Harry tried chipping it, rainbowing it to distract Louis, switching feet, rolling, faking a pass _and_ a fumble, but Louis knew all Harry’s tricks. Harry knew Louis’, too, but Louis was too fast for Harry to prevent them from working. 

“What is he congratulating me for?” Harry growled and panted as he and Louis faced off, and this once, Louis didn’t steal the ball automatically.

“He likes that you’re not giving up even though it’s pissing you off,” he nearly wheezed, and stole the ball, running down to the line until Coach blew the whistle for them to stop and someone else to go. 

Harry trudged over to the water bottles and squeezed the icy water into his mouth, swishing it around and then spitting it out, wanting nothing more than to guzzle it but wary of water-logging himself. Louis patted his back and tousled his sweat-matted curls, slightly dislodging the headband, but Harry ignored it because just off in the distance, his father was standing next to the bleachers watching them.

“Louis.”

Louis’ head snapped up as soon as he registered the tone of Harry’s voice – probably faint, Harry reasoned – and Harry looked at him. “My dad,” he said, and pointed to the bleachers, where he stood.

Instead of his dad, though, Harry saw some guy wearing a maintenance shirt, his stature a tiny bit brawny and his hair pulled back into a low tie at his neck and a baseball cap over it. 

“Harry, that’s just Petey,” Louis said, sounding puzzled. “The concession stand guy? He’s great.”

Harry wanted a hug, but he knew he didn’t want it in front of his teammates, and Louis must’ve known it, too, because he clapped Harry’s back, sliding his hand down Harry’s arm and squeezing his shoulder a tiny bit before he let go. 

Harry took a deep breath and ignored the guy, who was probably lovely and married with kids he didn’t molest or hit. Harry shuddered and shook his head, biting his lip. His face burned, though he was already flushed from the workout, so he doubted anyone would be able to tell the difference. Louis stayed close, but Harry suddenly felt ashamed and stepped away, swishing more water in his mouth and cutting the line so he could go up against a different teammate, to get his mind off of things. 

\---

Someone knocked on Harry’s bedroom door and Harry sat up to see Niall peeking around the edge of the door, smiling hopefully. “Not too busy?” He asked, and came in, anyway.

“Not really,” Harry said, shrugging, “an English paper I should write but don’t want to, yet. What’s up?”

Niall edged in and sat on Harry’s bed, pushing Harry’s computer out of the way. Harry noticed, with a hint of worry, that Niall looked uneasy, and his eyebrows raised because he’d known Niall a very long time, and seeing the boy anything but care-free was rare. 

“Everything okay?” He asked, and Niall blew out a gust of air.

“’Course,” he said off-handedly, but Harry just looked at him and eventually he cracked. “Okay. I, uh. Here’s the thing. So…’few days ago, you know, you had all of us over and talked about your dad. Yeah?”

Harry wasn’t going to answer, but Niall looked up at him, eyebrows raised and looking like he needed a bit of cooperation. “…Yeah,” Harry said slowly, and Niall nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, “and you had me, and Liam, and Louis, and Stan…and Zayn…”

“…Okay?” Harry responded, mind whirring as he tried to understand. “Ni, you know you’re one of my best mates, but Zayn’s a mate, too, and he’s involved, so, like, I get that you guys have, like, a history and it’s tricky for you, and stuff, but he’s my mate, now. I’m not about to tell you you have to, like, be buddy-buddy with him, or anything, but you’re gonna need to –”

 

“What if it’s not?” Niall blurted, interrupting and confusing Harry.

“What if it’s not what?” He asked, puzzled. 

Niall looked _nervous_ , now. “What if it’s – not that tricky? For me, I mean.”

Harry frowned, thinking over his words and trying to figure out what in the _world_ his friend was talking about. Eventually, Niall got tired of watching him try to work it out and his hands flopped nervously onto his lap, fingers twisting. “What if I don’t want to be mad at Zayn for what he said anymore?”

It took Harry a few seconds – for _weeks_ , Niall had been vaguely unhappy whenever he thought about Zayn. Not necessarily depressed, but maybe a little bummed out. He had certainly liked Zayn a lot; that much was apparent, but he had lost a lot of respect for Zayn when he insulted Harry (though, thankfully, unlike Louis, he hadn’t gotten upset when Harry forgave him – he just didn’t talk about it). 

“You – well, that’s great,” Harry said, a bit bewildered. “I mean, that’s awesome, really, Ni.”

Niall bit his lip, not looking relieved yet. “What if – what if I still have feelings for him?”

Harry laughed, a little fondly exasperated. “ _Niall_ , you don’t have to ask my permission to have _feelings_ for someone. You already liked him. He said something stupid and rude – one time, and he owned up to it, and he came directly to me and apologized. And since then, he’s been sincere, and he’s really been a good mate. Not to mention,” Harry added, “that he didn’t actually know _why_ what he said was such a big deal. Any other situation and it would’ve just been something rude to say in general.”

Niall nodded slowly, and Harry snorted. “I never really _did_ understand why everyone made it out to be some big huge deal. When’s the last time one of us said something a little mean? Probably last week, for me.”

Niall cracked a little grin, then, and shoulder bumped Harry. “What if I told you that we – after everyone left, Zayn offered to give me a ride home, so I did. We kind of…like, we talked about how shit it is that your dad’s in the picture again, kind of, and I was kind of taken by surprise by how much he genuinely likes you, like as a mate.”

Harry nodded, a little amused at Niall’s nervous rambling. 

“And he – asked me if I thought we would ever see each other again, like we used to.”

Harry tried and failed to suppress a smile, and Niall rolled his eyes. “Anyway,” he said, “I told him maybe. Like, maybe we could get back together. And it sort of…escalated from there?”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, eyebrows raising, and Niall laughed at his nosiness. 

“I mean he sucked me off and I gave him a handy,” he admitted, and Harry gasped so suddenly he nearly choked. 

Coughing, eyes watering, Harry croaked out, “Good for you, mate,” and Niall laughed obnoxiously loud while Harry tried to get his normal breathing back.

“Seriously, though,” Harry said eventually, laughing at Niall, who was still giggling, “that’s great. I wondered if you two would ever get back together. I’m glad you did.”

Niall’s laughter subsided, and he nodded, trying to tamper down his obscene amount of giddiness. “I missed him,” he said quietly, and Harry tugged his friend in by the shoulders for a one-armed hug. 

“I could tell,” he said. A funny sex-kind of joke popped in his head, and he was just about to ignore it, the way he usually did – it was one thing to think them, and another to _say_ them – but decided to go for it. It was only Niall, after all, and if it flopped then Niall would just tease him about it for a moment before he let it go. “You’re always happiest when you’re getting something up your – up your bum regularly.”

Niall paused, and Harry was just about to apologize when the blond burst out in surprised laughter again.


	45. Part 44.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiii! Just a few things:
> 
> Ugh, I KNOW it's been a month and a half; I'm SO sorry! It's taken forever to get this out; I know. It's basically pathetic.  
> -I got accepted into a REALLY good college. Like, REALLY good (honestly, I genuinely don't know how I got accepted. I think maybe it was a mistake on admissions' part, but I'm not about to point it out bc it's seriously my DREAM college, genuinely. Wanted to go here since I was, like, eight).  
> -We're moving (AGAIN; I know!).  
> -I'm in foster care classes.  
> -I AM writing a lot; just not always on 'Touch'. Hopefully these things will make it to publishing and you'll be able to see them!  
> -I'm still working (For the time being).  
> -I may or may not have a sort-of lady friend. Maybe. We'll see. Whatever. Not really much of a distraction because we're ADULTS and have a MATURE relationship in which we don't NEED to speak all the time (although it's nice), but it's a thing happening in my life currently and I thought I'd share it with you all. I'll keep you posted (if you're interested. Maybe you're not? I dunno. Either way.)
> 
> So thanks for your patience; thanks for your support, you guys are so effing lovely and I'm so fond of you and so grateful to you all. I love you! Hope you enjoy the chapter. 
> 
> **ALSO: 'Touch' _is_ winding down.** There will actually only be a few more things happening, and a few more chapters. There WILL be timestamps along down the road for this 'verse. There will NOT be a sequel. I will absolutely ALWAYS be open to CA's or comments or whatever for this 'verse.

When Louis parked in front of Harry’s bakery, Harry was still behind the counter, smiling charmingly at an old lady and her little tiny granddaughter, who was blushing and peeking up at him shyly, like she thought he was the best thing in the entire world. Louis could relate. 

He killed the engine and ambled in, taking a seat at a table and settling in to wait. As it turned out, though, he didn’t have to wait long, because Harry waved to the little girl and stepped back as they walked away, untying his apron from around his back. He strode to Louis with a smile on his face, and Louis’ breath caught just a bit that he had this boy on his side all the time for pretty much anything, even though he was complicated and silly and confusing. 

Speaking of. 

A man walked by the window of the bakery outside and stopped, peering in at the display. He didn’t seem out of the ordinary; in fact, Louis only noticed the man because Harry froze, eyes wide as he stared at the man. Quickly, Louis stood and approached Harry, concentrating on the fear in his boyfriend’s eyes, and Louis glared at the man who (in all fairness, understandably) looked alarmed at the sudden hostility and fear he was evoking from the two boys. The man walked off and Louis looked over at Harry, who had relaxed enough to wave again at the little girl holding close to her grandmother’s shawl.

Louis wanted to demand an explanation of what had just happened. Harry had started freezing up more often in the past few days, and Louis wasn’t stupid. He’d noticed it was when men were around, and he tried to be understanding and as sensitive to Harry’s own emotional chaos as possible, but there were some things he couldn’t just _get_ , easy as pie. “Come to the Jungle with me?” He finally asked, and Harry’s brows furrowed, but soon enough he smiled and nodded. 

They both called goodbye to the ladies Harry worked with, and Louis led Harry out to the car, holding the door open for him and then sliding into the driver’s side himself. As he drove, Louis thought about Harry telling their friends about the situation with his father, and certain reluctances Louis had noticed him having, and wondering why Harry had been acting so strangely. It’d hardly been a week since Harry had told the lads, and things had already changed. Harry had taken a sudden interest in spending all his free time with all the lads – which wouldn’t be a problem, in and of itself, if he hadn’t started cancelling plans alone with Louis if the other lads couldn’t make it. The only two conclusions Louis could come to were that his feelings for Louis were fading quickly, or, even worse, he was developing some sort of anxiety around Louis. 

Both thoughts made Louis sick to his stomach, so when Harry clutched at Louis’ hand as they fumbled inside the dark warehouse, Louis felt like he was soaring from the contact. Finally entering the room, Harry’s shoulders dropped in relaxation almost instantly and he all but ran to the hanging bed. Louis watched with a fond, loving smile on his face as Harry’s head tipped back, eyes closed, his smile simple and small as he eased onto the soft mattress. After a moment, though, his eyes opened and he grinned brightly at Louis, patting the space next to him.

It was probably stupid, but Louis felt some tension drain from his shoulders at Harry inviting him closer; he wouldn’t do that if he were scared of Louis, right? And he wouldn’t look so pleased if his feelings were fading. There was clearly something else going on, and while the thought was more than a little troubling, it eased his worry a tiny bit and reassured him that he wasn’t about to be Mayor of Lonelyheartsville. 

When Louis climbed up onto the bed, elbows bending with the swaying so he didn’t topple over like an idiot, Harry pulled him in close and snuggled right up to him, humming contentedly. 

“Did you have anything specific to talk about?” Harry asked, and Louis took a deep breath. 

“I – actually, I did, yeah,” he said, and Harry tipped his head up, making an inquisitive sound. “I’ve been thinking back to the other day, when you told the lads about your d- your father. And a few other things, but I figured we could talk things over one thing at a time, you know?”

Harry was frowning now, and Louis didn’t want that. He watched as Harry pushed himself up onto his elbow, taking the warmth of his head away from Louis’ chest. Trying to alleviate the sudden tension in the Jungle, Louis plucked lightly at Harry’s chin with two fingers. “I don’t want to fight, sweetheart,” he said, trying to be reassuring. “I just want to understand things better. So it doesn’t lead to confusion, or anything later. Communication, and all that, right?”

Harry nodded, but he was biting his lip, and his voice wavered a tiny bit before he asked, “What did you want to ask?”

Louis clucked, not wanting to have the conversation unhappily, and he pulled Harry close. “Come here, love,” he murmured, glad that Harry didn’t fight him on it. Harry all but collapsed on his chest, an uneasy shake weaving its way from the pit of his stomach, by the sounds of it, and Louis rubbed his back. “I’m not upset at you, or anything,” he said softly. “I genuinely just wanted to check on you; why are you upset?”

Harry sniffled, upset for reasons Louis couldn’t fathom if he had to, but he wasn’t in the mood to keep it from Louis, at least, because he pressed his nose up to Louis’ neck and mumbled, “’M not really okay.”

Louis swallowed and continued rubbing Harry’s back as he planned the rest of this conversation. “Can you tell me particulars?” He asked. 

Harry didn’t respond for a while, but just when Louis was about to prompt him, he shook his head, and Louis tried not to sigh audibly. He didn’t want Harry shutting down. Instead, he did his best to swallow his worry and impatience to ask Harry calmly, “If I ask you things, will you answer honestly?” 

Harry nodded, so Louis began. “I’ve noticed you keep, like. Freezing up, I guess, when you see men, lately. Not all men, obviously,” he babbled, not too comfortable with how tense Harry felt in his arms, “but maybe you’ve noticed it, too? And after you thought Petey was Des, I can’t help but wonder…are you, like, _seeing_ your dad in other grown men?”

Harry burrowed himself closer to Louis in response, shaking the bed, and Louis squeezed tight, figuring that’s what he was searching for. “I’m not going crazy,” Harry said finally, and his tone was defensive yet somehow still sounded scared. 

“Of course, you’re not, sweetheart,” Louis said genuinely, puzzled as to where he’d even get that idea. “It’s not – I’m not asking you so I can put you in a madhouse, Hazza; I’m asking because I need to know what’s wrong so I can know how to _help_.” He brushed his fingers up and down Harry’s spine gently, absentmindedly. “I don’t think you’re going crazy,” he added with reassuring finality. 

“I mean, it’s not – I’m not schizophrenic, or something,” Harry continued, much to Louis’ distaste. “Like, I’m not hearing his _voice_ in my head, if that’s – I’m just _stressed_ ; I’m not psycho.”

“ _Harry_ ,” Louis cut in, his voice firm but not sharp. It shut Harry up, and Louis felt fingers dig into his side a little bit, one of Harry’s hands curled into a ball around the material of Louis’ shirt. “I _don’t_ think you’re _crazy_ , babe. I’m just asking why you keep freezing up around other people. You never did that before; I just want to know why.”

Harry made a whine-ish noise and a sob came loose, startling Louis and catching him completely off guard. Whatever he’d planned for this conversation – maybe frustration, possibly even a defensive argument – it hadn’t been tears. Luckily, he was already holding Harry tightly, so he kissed his hair and rubbed his back as comfortingly as he knew how. “ _Babe_ ,” he murmured, and Harry whined again. 

“It’s never even _him_ ,” he said, his voice extremely frustrated. “I just always _think_ it’s him, and that he’s _here_ and I freeze, because I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do because sometimes I’m with you but sometimes I’m _not_ , and I never know what to _do_.”

He wasn’t full on crying. There weren’t but a few sobs, for when he got just a tad overwhelmed during his explanation, and it gave Louis immense relief that he wasn’t tripping over himself to get rid of the feelings. When Harry finished, he looked up at Louis like he was lost, and Louis was the answer to all his questions. No pressure, of course.

Louis took a deep breath, eyebrows lifting until Harry followed him, breathing in and out a few times until color came back to his face, a tiny bit. It was a little absurd-feeling, doing yoga breaths or whatever in the Jungle, where landscape sounds played over hidden speakers. Breathing deeply while hearing some jungle cat roar – howl? – off in the far distance was a bit surreal, but Harry calmed down, regardless, so Louis didn’t complain or move to turn it off. 

“Harry, it’s natural, what’s happening. Seeing him, and stuff. It’s a stress thing; your fears are manifesting themselves into your other senses. So, if you _do_ start hearing his voice, or smelling his old cologne or something, that’s – well, I was about to say ‘that’s okay’, but…” Harry let out a watery snort, and it made Louis grin a little bit, despite the heavy conversational content. “But maybe I should say it’s ‘ _normal_ ’. No sign of mental instability on that one. I looked it up and everything.”

Harry stared into Louis’ eyes like he was searching for any hint of untruth in Louis’ words, and when he didn’t find any, he pressed his cheek to Louis’, nose pressing into Louis’ messy hair and smelling him deeply. “Thank you for loving me so much,” he whispered, and Louis smiled against Harry’s jawline, pressed a kiss against it.

“Thank you for letting me,” he responded. 

They sat in silence for a while, Louis knowing he needed to mention some other things but patient enough to let Harry have his time to be comforted. Harry, though, must have remembered that Louis had mentioned a few things – as in, multiple conversational points – because he nuzzled his face into Louis’ neck again before he asked slowly, “Was there anything else?”

Louis didn’t want to think of Harry’s actions as _cute_ or _endearing_ – by hiding his face, he was essentially hiding from Louis’ reaction in a protection attempt borne from fear – but the press of Harry’s face against his skin left Louis feeling warm and happy, so he kissed the top of Harry’s head. “Yeah,” he said, trying to aim for casual despite the conversation’s topic being far from it. "I was just – remember when we were telling the lads, and Stan asked what the letter said? You told him it wasn’t important.” Harry kept his breathing deliberately slow, like he was trying to control his heart rate. “I wasn’t – I’m not mad about it, or anything. I just wondered why you thought it wasn’t important.” _I mean, the man_ did _threaten my life, and all_ , he wanted to add, but didn’t. 

Harry squirmed and curled his body a little closer to Louis, the bed swaying in protest as he did. “’S not – that it wasn’t _important_ , Lou,” he said slowly, muffled against Louis’ neck. He moved, though, untucking his face like he felt like the topic was too serious for face-muffling. “I _know_ it’s important; trust me, I do. That’s my _boyfriend_ getting threatening letters, and it’s my _dad_ sending them. It’s _so_ important. I just –” Harry huffed, and he sat up completely, swaying the bed awkwardly as he fumbled around for balance. He took one of Louis’ hands and squeezed it tightly between both of his, looking down at Louis seriously. 

“Remember how I – you know how I still…there’s a part of me that wants him back, and stuff?” Louis swallowed, but he nodded. Usually, he tried not to think about that part of Harry’s heart – the part that wanted to forgive and forget and have a dad again. It was hard for Louis to justify having those kinds of feelings to himself. Still, though, he wasn’t going to deny Harry his own emotions, and Louis not understanding them certainly didn’t make them irrelevant. So he nodded. And Harry licked his lips, and folded in on himself a little bit more. 

“Well, I just – like, okay. You know how, sometimes you get mad at me? And maybe you think mean stuff about me? Not because you really think it, but because you’re just _mad_ and that’s what people do when they’re mad?” Harry looked at him a little desperately, trying to explain himself. 

“I know what you mean, yeah,” Louis ended up saying, and Harry nodded.

“Right. But you’d be _furious_ if someone else said the stuff you think when you’re mad, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course.”

“Exactly,” Harry exhaled as he said the word, looking like he hadn’t expected explaining himself to be so easy. “That’s – how I feel about this stuff. Not that you were doing anything wrong by telling everyone what was happening! I don’t – I agree it was the right thing to do. I just…it’s not. It’s not easy, being so angry at my father all the time. And I – I don’t always feel like other people have the right to be mad at him, too. Or even – I guess they _can_ , obviously; I’m not the, like, Feelings Police, or whatever. I just. I didn’t want everyone to start…saying awful things about him. He’s wrong, and he’s a terrible person and he’s _so obviously_ messed me up more than I thought…but he’s.” Harry’s lip wobbled, but before he could cry, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, getting himself under control. “He’s still my – my father, no matter what. He’s still _half_ of me. So, like. I’m _like_ him, halfway? I think that’s another reason why I’m not. Not okay,” Harry added quietly, dropping Louis’ gaze. “Because I’m _like_ him. Obviously, I’m not a – I wouldn’t do _that_ …to anyone,” he added hastily. So Louis nodded. “But I still have some of his face. And I still have his genes. I have his height, and probably his feet. He – we like cars. He always said he’d teach me about them, but. Well.” Harry lifted his shoulder in a half shrug, and Louis briefly wished he knew something about mechanics so he could give Harry that. 

“Harry,” Louis said quietly, and moved so he could lean his head against Harry’s thigh, hair falling into Harry’s lap. Harry kept holding onto Louis’ hand, though, and squeezed it gently. “Sweetheart, I understand. Both things; I understand both things. And they’re both perfectly valid, but there’s nothing wrong with you. No matter how much my mum or sisters get on my nerves, I’d never let someone talk bad about them. And being half your father isn’t necessarily _bad_ , either.”

Harry was chewing on his lip, but when he heard that, he asked hesitantly, “Really?”

“Of course not! I mean, think about it. I’m half from a guy who got his girlfriend pregnant ran off. Doesn’t mean I’ll ever do the same thing. And, who knows, maybe my real dad’s actually done some incredible things in his life? I’ll probably never know, but I’ll bet I got _some_ good qualities from him.”

Harry swallowed and his thumb rubbed the back of Louis’ hand. “Your mum doesn’t have blue eyes,” he said almost shyly, like he was offering something sweet.

Louis beamed. “ _Exactly_ ,” he said, reaching up with his free hand to tap Harry’s nose. “I got them from him. Not much else, looks-wise, as I look just like my mum, but, you know.” He shrugged and pulled Harry’s hand in so he could kiss it, keeping eye contact. Harry blushed. 

“Maybe you’re all the good in your dad, sweetheart; who knows? We don’t know the person your dad is. He could be a terrible, horrible person or he could be a really good person who just lost his fucking mind for a little bit. Maybe he used to be awful and he’s changed. Or maybe he used to be good but changed and then everything happened. Who knows? But just because _he_ did something awful doesn’t mean _you_ ever would do it.” Harry was tearing up again, and Louis tugged him down, wrapping his arms tight around Harry. 

Harry was practically on top of Louis, and he slotted himself in between Louis’ legs and wrapped his arms around Louis, tucking his hands between Louis and the bed. Louis was probably crushing Harry’s hands, but he knew Harry liked the weight – how it anchored him – so he let it be. He tilted Harry’s face up and kissed his lips, a noise of surprise escaping his throat when Harry eagerly licked into his mouth while Harry shifted up just a little. The bed rocked, spurred on by all their moving around, and Louis’ tongue slid across Harry’s deliciously. Louis could easily let this get out of control, let himself go and love on Harry a bit – it had been _two weeks_ , just about – but when he needed to breathe, he broke the kiss and dropped his head back onto the mattress. 

“Love you,” Harry mumbled, his lips attacking Louis’ neck. 

“Love you, too,” Louis answered, moaning when Harry’s teeth so-gently scraped at his neck. He didn’t leave any marks, but he licked over the scrape carefully, as if he _had_ , and Louis was _so_ okay with it. 

“’S been too long; I want – I want…stuff.”

Louis laughed a little breathlessly, charmed (as always) by Harry’s eagerness and his innocence at the same time. “I know,” he said, moaning when Harry started sucking on the side of his neck. “We’re never alone, lately.” 

The words had their intended response, though Louis still swallowed a whine of dismay. Harry stopped sucking on his throat and kissed it gently, easing back down to rest his head on Louis’ chest. “I know,” he said in a small voice, and Louis may have been mistaken, but he would’ve sworn it sounded like Harry was embarrassed. 

Rubbing Harry’s shoulders, Louis stared at the ceiling as he asked, “Any particular reason?” Harry didn’t answer for a long time. “Hazza? Sweetheart? Any reason we haven’t been alone in a while?”

Harry tilted his face to press it into Louis’ shirt, his nose crinkling up. Finally, though, he relaxed again, and said, “I’m scared.”

A jolt ran through Louis and he started pushing himself up. “Of me?” He asked, trying his best to sound calm, but Harry was already pushing him back down. 

“No, no, of course not,” he said soothingly, kissing Louis’ chest. “Not of you; I could never be – I’m not scared of you, Lou.” Louis relaxed, his relief probably tangible, and Harry continued, swallowing hard. “I’m – scared for – for the boys?” He said, screwing his face up like he thought it was stupid. “I mean, it happened to Mum and me. And Liam and Niall sort of…just always knew. But. But I told _you_ , and now you’ve got – like. You’ve got scary mail it’s not okay but it’s kind of _okay_ because I’m with you more often than not so at least I _know_ you’re alright when I’m there, but – but now I have four other people who know and I can’t be in all these places at once, and it just. It – it makes me _itch_ , like physically, my skin is _itchy_ all the time because I don’t –” Harry huffed and calmed himself down, rubbing his cheeks against Louis’ shirt like it helped. “Friends don’t – they don’t just _happen_ to me. If Liam’s mum and mine weren’t such good friends…and, back then, if Niall didn’t do _everything_ Liam did…I mean, I know _now_ they’re my best mates and they love me and all, but if it hadn’t been for all that history and mums pushing us together and Niall just tagging along, they wouldn’t – they _wouldn’t_. And I know Stan and Zayn like me and all, and we get on, but if you hadn’t – if we weren’t, like – together, you know, then me and Stan’d just be teammates, not real mates. And Zayn would only know me ‘cause he was _your_ mate and we’d be on the team so maybe he’d hear you mention me. Or because of Niall, I guess,” he added on, looking upwards thoughtfully, and then nodded. “Yeah. But…but I don’t _get_ friends, Lou; I’m not a person who _has_ friends and _makes_ them, and now I’ve got _four_. And I – I can’t just…if he finds out they know, I’m just scared. Maybe it’s, like, a _thing_ \- like a ‘don’t love my son because I want to’ thing, or someth- I dunno. But I don’t want to risk my friends like that, and even now, _he_ could be with _any_ of them, if he’s already out, and that’s…” Harry shook his head and blew out a breath slowly. “That’s terrifying.”

Louis made a noise of agreement; he hadn’t thought about that. Harry rubbed Louis’ chest and pressed a kiss over his heart, and rested his head there again. After a while, he squeezed Louis tight and mumbled, “’M sorry we haven’t had time together, just me and you. I’ve missed you a lot. Just – between school, and work, and football, and – and trying to protect my friends, too…there’s not any other time _left_ , and that’s…crap. That’s crap.”

Louis lifted his lips into a half-smile and kissed Harry’s head. “I understand it, though,” he said truthfully, and let his hands slip under Harry’s shirt. “I really do, sweetheart. I just wanted to check on you, make sure you remember how much I love you.” Harry made a noise of happiness and curled into Louis’ side.

“Still,” he murmured stubbornly. “Gotta make sure we get more time together. Even _Niall and Zayn_ are beating us.”

Louis laughed, bewildered. “It’s not a competition, Ha- what?” Realizing what Harry had said, he blinked down at Harry. “Niall and Zayn?”

Harry looked up at nodded, eyebrows furrowed. “Yeah,” he said, a smile forming on his face. “They’re back together. Niall told me the other day. He was, like, really nervous, but I made a – I made a, like, sexy joke and he felt better.”

Louis smirked, amused. “You made a sexy joke?” Harry blushed and nodded. “Can you tell me it?”

Harry laughed and shook his head, hiding his burning face in Louis’ shirt. Louis tickled his sides, laughing as Harry squealed and laughed in spite of himself.

“Okay! Okay,” Harry gasped, laughing and shaking the bed wildly as his body jumped around, trying to escape Louis’ fingers. “I’ll tell you!” He said, giggling as he captured Louis’ fingers. 

Louis stopped tickling at once and started kissing his face and neck, but Harry gasped so prettily when Louis kissed his neck that Louis got distracted and smirked down at his boyfriend. 

Harry’s eyes were wide and he was chewing his lip, and he smiled shyly as he picked at the hem of Louis’ shirt. “’S been a while,” he said simply, and smiled when Louis’ eyebrows rose. Squirming, Harry rolled his hips up to meet Louis’ and pulled Louis down to kiss him again. “Want you,” he breathed into Louis’ mouth.

It wasn’t until Louis dropped Harry off that he realized Harry never told him the joke.


	46. Part 45.

Harry stared at the piece of paper in his hands the entire way home. Louis stayed quiet, having picked up on Harry’s mood, and Harry couldn’t be more grateful that he wasn’t asking any questions yet. 

Directly after practice, Harry had gone to see Karen. He hadn’t had an appointment – he only had those once every week, sometimes every other week – but Karen had texted Harry just after school let out to come see her as soon as possible. Apparently, Karen had called Harry’s mum in for a meeting, since Harry was a minor, and they had decided together to move ahead on helping Harry with his ever-present anxiety. Karen had been talking to Harry about a light medication for a few weeks, but Harry hadn’t wanted to start taking pills. At the end of the day, though, Harry was still a minor, and Karen only needed his mum’s permission to write the prescription. Harry had walked out of Karen’s office humiliated and angry, though he knew both his mum and Karen were only trying to do what was best.

Harry _knew_ what this paper meant, was the thing. He knew he would have to go and give this paper to a proper doctor and get it taken care of, and he’d have to follow the directions and people would probably notice, and they’d _know_. Harry cared what others thought about him a bit, sure, but _Louis_ would know. And it’s not as if Louis would ever make fun of Harry, or anything – Harry knew that; Louis was wonderful and loved him to bits. But Harry couldn’t blame Louis if he decided Harry was clearly too much baggage and responsibility and didn’t want to be with him anymore. Harry wasn’t so sure how Louis’d held on this long, to be honest. 

Caught up in his thoughts, Harry hadn’t even noticed they’d pulled up into his driveway until Louis parked the car and turned it off. Unbuckling in his seat and turning half around to fully face Harry, he stayed quiet, letting Harry have thoughts to himself, but eventually Harry noticed him getting restless. Giving in, Harry handed the slip of paper over to Louis, tangling his fingers together in his lap afterwards. He couldn’t look at Louis. He couldn’t look at Louis and see the reaction he was bound to have once he knew how crazy Harry was. 

“Boo- …Buh- …Byoo- …Harry, what is this? XR, ten em-gee’s orally p.c., b.i.d....Harry, what _is_ this?” 

Taking a deep breath, Harry huffed out nervously, snatching the paper back as he read out the prescription. “’Buspar, extended release, ten milligrams orally after meals, twice a day.” Cranky out of nerves, Harry crumbled the paper and put it back into his backpack. “It’s a prescription. For anxiety. I have to take _pills_ because I can’t calm down.” Now that he got it out, Harry just wanted to cry. Hadn’t he just told Louis not even _four days_ ago that he wasn’t crazy? And now, here he was, holding a prescription he was going to have to give his mum so he could start taking pills. 

Louis hesitated before his answer, but it only turned out to be a slow and expectant, “Okay. …Do you want me to go with you to get it filled at the pharmacy?”

Harry looked up at him, frustrated but hopeful. If Louis wasn’t going to act like Harry was a mental patient, neither was Harry. Still, he had to ask, “You’re not – you don’t think that’s weird?”

Louis just shrugged, though. “Fliss has anxiety. She doesn’t take anything for it – she’s too young, but she’s got it.” He paused, seeming to realize something, and then held his arms out. 

Harry all but flopped into his arms, leaning across the car awkwardly to rest his head on Louis’ chest. 

Petting gently at his hair, Louis asked, “When Fliss’ therapist told her she had anxiety, she cried for hours. I think she didn’t want that label on her, even though she wasn’t old enough to know how to explain that. Is that what you’re worried about – that stigma?”

Ignoring the question, Harry scratched at his nose. “You didn’t tell me Fliss was in therapy,” he said instead. 

Louis shrugged. “It’s her business,” he answered. “I certainly haven’t told the girls any of _your_ story.” 

Louis rubbed Harry’s shoulders, and Harry let himself be comforted. He stayed quiet until, finally, Louis leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go in.”

They made the trek into Harry’s house and up to his room, and Harry let Louis follow after him and shut the door. As soon as he heard the click, though, Harry felt arms wrap around his waist from behind and Louis slowly crowded in behind him, kissing the back of Harry’s shoulder. Harry instinctively moved his head to the side so Louis could kiss at the side of his neck, and his eyes slipped shut when he felt Louis’ tongue, followed by lips, on his skin. 

“Pills don’t make a difference to me, ‘s long as you’re being responsible with them,” Louis murmured gently, kissing Harry after random, natural lulls in his speaking. “I’ll love you no matter what you need. You’re my boy; I need you to take care of yourself properly, okay?” 

Harry nodded, sighing out and already feeling so much more relaxed. He’d never understand what he did to deserve someone like Louis. He turned in Louis’ hands and looked into his eyes just a moment before kissing him, dragging his hands up Louis’ chest and around his neck, wanting to stay in the moment forever.

Louis’ arms stayed wound around Harry’s waist, fingers tucking themselves underneath the hem of Harry’s t-shirt, still a little wet from being put on so quickly after a shower in the locker room. Harry sighed, relaxing further into Louis’ touch, and his kisses slipped from Louis’ mouth downward, pressing over Louis’ jaw and down his neck. Harry let his hands roam all over Louis, slowly walking them to his bed while he finally grabbed handfuls of Louis’ bum, smiling against Louis’ collarbone when he heard a squeak of surprise come from his mouth.

Harry laid down on his bed, pulling Louis with him and spreading his legs so Louis could settle between them to lay on top of him. “Love you so much,” Harry whispered against Louis’ skin, flushing.

Louis hummed and pulled away from Harry’s kisses, attacking Harry’s neck in turn. With his face buried far against the crook of Harry’s neck, Louis bit down and then sucked, making Harry moan. Louis pulled back, then, and Harry was about to apologize for the noise when he realized Louis was pulling at Harry’s shirt. Harry lifted his hands to help Louis get the shirt over his head, and he only had to wait a few seconds while Louis ripped off his own before Louis was pushing Harry’s shoulders back down to the bed again, laying kisses against Harry’s neck and feeling all over Harry’s torso. His penis started getting hard, and he couldn’t help but rock up against Louis, who didn’t hesitate to roll his hips down to give Harry some friction.

It felt good, and Harry’s fingers squeezed more at Louis’ bum, but it wasn’t what Harry wanted. “Lou, Lou – wait.” 

Louis stopped rolling his hips and pressed a few more light kisses to Harry’s neck before he pulled away, pressing a kiss to Harry’s lips before he asked, “What’s up, buttercup?”

With the weight of Louis’ stare, Harry was flustered and forgot how to say what he’d been practicing. “Can you – my, erm. What we did with the – with your, erm. Tongue. Down there.”

Louis grinned while Harry slapped his forehead. He _knew_ he’d figured out a way to make it sound sexy, but he couldn’t remember it. Still, he knew Louis wouldn’t make fun of him, so he wasn’t overly embarrassed, and if the way Louis was grinning was any hint, he was more than happy to do it.

“Want me to go down on you, sweetheart?” He asked huskily, moving off to the side of Harry to pull down his own shorts. “Been a while, hasn’t it?” He added, and Harry was pretty sure he was just talking to fill the silence so Harry didn’t feel awkward. He appreciated the notion, regardless, and nodded.

“Yeah, please,” he said breathily, and Louis groaned. His shorts off, Harry could see Louis’ penis was starting to get hard, the outline of it showing in his boxers. It gave Harry sexy thoughts, but he wanted to focus on this, so he did. Louis always told Harry he deserved to chase his own pleasure more often, and today, Harry thought he might need it a bit more than usual. Arching up his hips, he helped Louis get his shorts and briefs off, blushing when Louis peeled Harry’s socks off, too – there was something so un-sexy about socks to Harry; he wasn’t sure what it was, but he didn’t want them involved in this. Socks shouldn’t ever be involved in anything sexy. 

Louis pushed Harry’s shirt up and kissed down his torso, tongue flicking around his belly button and making Harry squirm pleasantly. Louis paid special attention to the shadow of Harry’s fifth ab-let (it wasn’t a word, they knew, but the little ab muscle just over Harry’s four pack wasn’t quite developed enough to be a _true_ ab, and Louis regarded the little thing fondly enough to make Harry blush). Harry fought to calm his breathing and twisted his fingers gently into Louis’ hair as Louis left wet kisses all over the new toning his body was starting to show, and by the time Louis got done tracing Harry’s v-cut muscle line with his tongue, Harry’s penis was very, very hard, his breathing labored and hips twitching. 

Harry spread his legs and raised his hips to let Louis put a pillow under them – Harry wasn’t sure why, but Louis was the one with the previous experience, after all. There was probably a reason to it, and at any rate, Harry felt Louis’ eyes on his exposed body and felt a rush of adrenaline that meant Louis could put an Egyptian pyramid under his hips and he wouldn’t really care. Louis slowly placed each of Harry’s calves onto a shoulder, resting them there and tilting his head both ways to kiss at Harry’s inner thighs. In that moment, Harry felt beautiful and loved, and couldn’t help shutting his eyes and spreading his fingers over the bed, squeezing the fabric in bunches as his body twitched.

“Lou,” Harry sighed, smiling, and Louis hummed into the crease in Harry’s left thigh for a moment. Finally, Louis brought his thumbs to pry Harry’s bum cheeks apart and ducked down, relaxing into licking Harry’s bum. 

Harry moaned a little, quietly, his hips circling lightly because he wanted Louis’ tongue _everywhere_ all at once. Louis pressed in, massaging the cheeks of Harry’s bum as lightly as he could without losing his grip keeping them apart. Harry hummed even as his toes wiggled, an unusual level of relaxed, and as Louis hummed with his tongue pressing tightly against Harry’s hole, Harry thought he could take pills if they made him feel as calm as this.

Louis let go of Harry’s bum and his hands slid all over Harry’s body, running his fingers over Harry’s nipples and caressing his skin. Harry decided, then and there, that he could handle being vulnerable a thousand different ways, as long as he had someone like Louis at his side to make him feel so much better. As Louis’ tongue circled around Harry’s whole, sparks flew up Harry’s spine and Harry used the leverage of his calves on Louis’ back to propel himself upwards, searching for something _more_. 

Harry’s hands found themselves in Louis’ hair, and he wound soft strands around his fingers and reminded himself not to pull as Louis did something with his tongue that made Harry’s moan escalate and turn into Louis’ name as it left Harry’s mouth. A shiver ran down Harry’s back and shook his thighs a bit when Louis moaned and pressed his tongue against Harry’s hole, the tip of it slipping in, and Harry’s penis let a throb. 

Harry moaned a little loudly when Louis pulled his tongue out and pursed his lips just next to Harry’s hole, the side of his lips catching the side of Harry’s rim, and sucked, grazing his teeth against Harry’s skin. Harry let go of Louis’ hair with one hand, arching his back up a little even though Louis had his hips pinned down, and he wrapped a hand around his penis, stroking it quickly.

Quick as a whip, Harry closed his eyes and saw himself moaning out Louis’ name while Louis slipped a finger into his bum alongside his tongue. In the present, Harry gasped at the sudden thought of _more_ , and he came across his stomach with Louis’ name on his lips. 

Louis only continued licking Harry’s hole until Harry squirmed and whined a tiny bit, oversensitive. When he did, Louis pulled away and looked up at Harry, smiling radiantly, like he was happy to have had his tongue _there_ until Harry reached his orgasm. His own penis was hard, though, so Harry powered through the heaviness of his eyelids and sat up, pulling Louis into a hug and pulling him closer simultaneously. 

Harry wormed his hand down under Louis’ shorts and rubbed at Louis’ hard penis, squeezing him as Louis moaned a little into Harry’s collarbones. His breath was hot, and the angle was a little awkward, but Harry loved the way Louis’ fingers dug into his back and his breath stuttered. 

“Thank you so much for – your mouth,” Harry rasped out, his voice still breathy and halfway-there. “You’re so good at that, it drives me crazy. I always want more.” Louis let out a tiny bit of a whine, like he hadn’t meant to let it slip and bit it off once he realized he had, but Harry only pressed his palm against Louis’ erection a little harder. “Want your – want you to touch me down there, next time,” he admitted in a whisper, and Louis let out a strangled-sounding moan and tensed, freezing a bit as he came under Harry’s hand and his boxers. Harry squeezed him one more time before pulling his hand out of Louis’ shorts, and Louis makes a breathless groaning sound and kisses Harry hard, hands cradling Harry’s head as they fought to be closer and breathe at the same time.

Finally, they broke apart, and Louis blurted out, “I love you a lot.”

Harry smiled privately – deep down to his entire heart – and laid back, pulling Louis with him to cuddle even though they were both sweaty. “I love you a lot, too,” he said a little more calmly. 

Louis let out a strange-sounding laugh, and Harry bit his lip. He knew it was irrational. Louis didn’t think anything bad just because he was going to be on medication. He _didn’t_. Shifting around, Harry looked at Louis and grabbed Louis’ hand, fingers tapping out a nervous little rhythm over the back of it. “Is everything okay?” He couldn’t help asking.

Louis hesitated, but before Harry could steel himself for a rejection, Louis ran his free hand down his own face. “I – when you were getting me off, just now,” he began, and swallowed. Harry felt himself blush. 

_‘Want you to touch me down there, next time.’_

“You said you wanted me to touch you. Did you – what did you mean, exactly?” 

With a bright red face, Harry rolled onto his side, closer to Louis and tucked his head in the crook of Louis’ neck. Louis laughed a little, and his hands closed around Harry, one rubbing his back and one threading into his hair, pulling him back a little. “Harry, no –” He cut himself off and hissed a little when Harry bit his neck, sucking to give him a lovebite to rival all lovebites. 

“Harry,” Louis said, laughing a little, but Harry only whined and scooted himself even closer, rubbing his hands over Louis’ side. “ _Harry_ \- Harry!” 

In desperation of avoiding the conversation – he needed _time_ to figure out a sexy way to ask for – for that! – Harry started tickling the sensitive part of Louis’ ribcage, fingers ghosting over the soft skin and then digging in while Louis writhed around, laughing hysterically. 

Harry shifted and threw a leg over Louis’ hips, careful not to knee him or be kneed in any delicate places, and straddled Louis, tickling him until he cried for mercy, and by then, all Louis did was hold Harry’s hands and pucker his lips, looking up at Harry with his eyebrows raised. Well. Harry was a mere mortal teenage boy, going up against such a beautiful angel, and if this angel wanted a kiss, Harry was helpless to deny him.

\---

Harry learned within a few days the best times to take his pills. One at breakfast, and one right after lunch, ducking into the bathroom next to the cafeteria with Niall and Liam. Go into the stall to “pee”, and take the pill from his pocket and swallow it with the water bottle he carried around everywhere. He wish he could take it after dinner, where he was at home and nobody but Louis or Mum would see, but the pill always made his throat itch a little, and he’d stay up for hours, drinking to rid himself of it…and then have to use the bathroom every five minutes as a result. At least this gave him a reason to leave fifth period every day.

Luckily, Harry typically was okay during practice. Practices were getting downright grueling, now, with them being so close to state competition. Coach had seen the bracket for it – they were first to play Raymondville, and then either Rio Grande City or Hidalgo, if they beat Raymondville. They’d miss at least four days, maybe playing two games each day, so Coach had them training like it, while still being watchful for any potential injuries and scouting for any weak spots the team had. 

“Tomlinson! Get your head in the game, son!” 

Harry looked up just in time to see Louis shaking his head angrily at himself while he charged after Stan, who managed to steal the ball right under his nose. _He’ll be mad about that for hours_ , Harry thought grimly. 

By the time practice was over, Harry was drenched, his headband too soaked with sweat to be holding his curls back much. The late April sun was blistering, making Harry’s ears ring and making him feel disoriented after the third lap around the field after playing two scrimmages against his own team. And as if the world wasn’t cruel enough, Harry had been Skins, giving the entire team a perfect view of all the lovebites Louis had left him with, trailing up his torso along his happy trail, up and around each nipple, two on each collarbone, and one on the side of his neck (Harry had come in his briefs from the lovebites alone; Louis hadn’t even needed to rub against him). The team hooted and hollered, aside from Louis and Stan, when Harry took his shirt off. Louis looked like the cat who caught the canary, Stan had looked at Louis with incredulous awe, and Coach – oh, God, _Coach_ knew – had looked purely shocked before he blew his whistle again. 

“Enough! Are we gonna let some teenage debauchery get in the way of Raymondville? No, so run laps until Styles’ chest isn’t funny anymore.” Everyone groaned, but it had only taken two laps around the field, which was their daily warm-up, anyway, so it wasn’t too bad. 

Louis didn’t have to work that day, but Harry did, so after he showered, he and Louis hurried to the car so Louis could drive. Once they were out of the school’s parking lot, Louis gripping the wheel tight, Louis asked, “How determined are you to be at work on time?”

Harry ended up being about fifteen minutes late, Louis pulling into an alley behind an old Martial Arts studio and wasting no time in getting Harry’s jeans down around mid-thigh to suck him off. Harry had been loud, shocked and surprised that he was even able to be aroused in public, much less finding himself loving the fact that _anyone could walk by and see_. It didn’t take him long to come down Louis’ throat at all, and Harry gasped his name, kissing him hard when Louis pulled off, his lips puffy and dark, and reached down to get his hand around Louis, stroking him tight and curling his thumb over top of its head repeatedly until Louis came over Harry’s hand. Laughing, Louis had to look in the glove box for tissues to clean Harry’s hand off with, but he found them and wiped off Harry’s hand gently, kissing each finger softly before kissing Harry’s mouth. 

“I’ll pick you up,” Louis said with a kiss as he _finally_ parked in front of the bakery. “Call me, okay?”

Harry unbuckled and moved to get out, smiling, but he looked back and found Louis’ face so beautiful, and had to lean back in for one more kiss. “Love you,” he whispered. “And get some homework done while you wait!” 

Louis rolled his eyes and waited until Harry closed the bakery door behind him, and then he was off, probably to the library so he could pretend like he’d done work.


	47. Part 46.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, yay, look! It's not been a month since I updated, like last time! Managed to finish one of my papers and had time; I've been havin problems sleeping and this is the fruit of that. Hope y'all like it!
> 
> IMPORTANT: 'Touch' is coming to an end; you've all known that for a while, now, but I've decided I'm probably going to end it at 50; we've got about four more parts until the fic itself will be ending. THERE WILL BE TIMESTAMPS, follow-ups, that kind of thing, little one shots to continue the 'verse. I don't know how many, but I can think of at least three off the top of my head that I'll be needing to write (mostly to satisfy myself). So, I hope you guys have liked it so far, thank you for sticking with it for so long. xxxxxxx

Louis felt sick.

Granted, it wasn’t a big deal, and it wasn’t a surprise, either. As he bounced on the balls of his feet, Louis surveyed the field – still a little wet from the rain Huckabee had been getting – and surveyed the Raymondville Bearkats. The first round of the State competition was Central versus Raymondville, and Louis was ready. 

Number five on the Bearkats was the major focus of Louis’ surveying; his name was Hutchinson, and he was a senior captain, as well. He was a big goalie, and Louis knew just by sight that it’d be hard to get anything by him. Luckily, Harry, Stan, and Louis were all perfectly healthy and had been working ceaselessly on their striking. The Central Mustangs were ready. 

Glancing over at Harry, Louis noticed his boyfriend looking furtively around before reaching into the pockets of his team wind pants – how Harry could wear _pants_ in the boiling weather, Louis would never understand – and take out a pill. 

Louis frowned. He knew Harry usually took the pills around noon, as it was now, but he was almost _positive_ Harry had mentioned that he was supposed to take it after meals. Louis wasn’t sure, though, and he didn’t know if it was more important that Harry take the pills at the same schedule every day or if it was more important that he take them on a full stomach. Sighing, because Harry would be _humiliated_ if Louis said anything, even where nobody else could hear, Louis turned around just as Harry took a swig of his red Gatorade to swallow it down. 

It was fine. They were ready. 

The stands of the stadium weren’t very full – mostly parents and close friends of the players, Louis assumed – and Louis took a sharp breath as he looked up in the announcer’s box at the top of the Home side, where Mr. Riverez and possibly Mr. Adams, the two scouts Coach had stressed to Louis, would probably be sitting, if they were attending. Louis didn’t know if they were or not, but the pressure was there, anyway. 

Finally, they were allowed to take the field to warm up, and Louis headed the warm-ups, calling encouragements and prying responses from his teammates to intimidate their opponent. Attitude was half the game. 

“Louis.”

Louis looked over just as Stan took off with a ball to shoot, and he saw Harry looking pale and already sweaty. “What’s wrong?” He asked instantly, and Harry swallowed. He stepped back, a little away from the team, and Louis followed, knowing his boyfriend didn’t want the team to overhear whatever he had to say. 

“Louis, don’t play me yet,” he implored, looking up at the press box and shaking his head. “Don’t – don’t.”

Incredulous, Louis took a step back. “Harry, we _need_ you; what are you talking about? Are you alright?”

Harry nodded jerkily, but licked his lips and said, “I’m not – I can’t concentrate; I’ll mess it all up. I wasn’t even meant to be first string; don’t play me in such an important game.”

Louis snorted and stepped forward until he could grip Harry’s shoulders, getting in his face as a captain rather than a boyfriend. “Listen to me, Styles,” he said calmly, squeezing Harry’s shoulders. Harry looked at him with wide, green and nervous eyes, hanging off the formation of Louis’ lips. “You’re going to play, and you’re going to be incredible. Not because you have to be, but because you _are_. This is what you do, Harry. This is what we practiced all the time for. You have _earned_ your spot, and you’re going to play it to the best of your ability. Am I right?” Harry nodded, after a hesitation, and Louis squeezed his shoulders again. “Am I _right_ , Harry?” He asked imperiously. 

“You’re right,” Harry answered a little stoically, and Louis nodded, glancing around before he bopped Harry on the nose with his finger. 

“I love you,” he whispered, and Harry’s face split in half into a massive grin. “Just play, sweetheart. You’re going to do so well.”

Harry swallowed and nodded to himself, his brows furrowed like he was directing an internal speech that sounded a lot like Louis’ at his brain, and touched Louis’ hip briefly. “I love you, too,” he said quietly. He took a deep breath and squared himself, looking between the Bearkats and Louis, and nodded. “I’m going to be fine,” he said confidently, and Louis smiled and clapped his shoulder. They took a few steps back to the rest of their team, letting two people go before Louis intercepted the ball, passed to Harry and went about the drill. 

\---

The Hidalgo Pirates were all small, but very fast. As Louis took a pull of his water bottle, he felt vaguely annoyed that Central had to face Hidalgo a week after going against a team of slower but bigger players like those of the Raymondville team. Beating the Bearkats had felt _incredible_ , with Stan and Louis scoring two each, Harry scoring one and managing to assist in both of Stan’s goals, and they’d won by two. Harry had _glowed_ during Coach’s speech after the game. 

They’d gone back home that night, seeing as it hadn’t even been dinner time by the end of the game, and Louis had come home to his sisters and mum beaming and ready for hugs after he’d dropped Harry off at his. They spent the night at Louis’, snuggled close in Louis’ big bed, and woke up to the sound of noisy girls running around the halls before Louis’ alarm clock could even wake them. School had been getting a little easier, the teachers starting to focus more on reviewing a year’s worth of material for finals than anything else, so there hadn’t been much homework – which had been lucky for the team, because Coach had kept them all late for the three days of practice they’d had.

Now, though, they were nearly six hours South, at the bottom of College Station to play against the Pirates. Win or lose, they would stay in a hotel in a town just north of College Station, and head back home the next morning, since their game didn’t even start until eight. At least they’d be excused for school the next day. 

After their win against the Bearkats, the Mustangs were feeling much more confident. The change in Harry’s demeanor between warm-ups for the first game and warm-ups for this one had been incredible – Harry had been concentrated, excited, and _ready_ , quietly encouraging people when he saw them doing well, and Louis suddenly recalled Coach telling him to start subtly teaching Harry how to Captain a team. 

Stan, Louis, and Harry were starting, of course, and when the whistle blew, Louis passed directly to Stan, who shot off like a rocket. 

Coach had lectured the boys on the importance of passing for this game, since the Pirates were fast. If they got the ball, there’d be hell to pay, so it was important to pass when necessary and _only_ when necessary, using good judgment. 

Louis ran like a bat out of hell the entire game, shouting direction until he was hoarse. The Pirates played a fair game, at least, and weren’t out for blood or revenge. Harry managed a steal from a pass between midfielder and wing, and Louis roared when it enabled him to score the first point of the game. Harry jumped and pumped his fist into the air, looking at the crowds for where he knew his mum would be. Louis glanced as well, and saw Robin and Anne both of them jumping up and down, hooting and hollering like fools, proud of Harry just as Louis was. When Louis looked back at Harry, Harry was running towards him, and he jumped into Louis’ arms for a moment. 

“The first one!” Harry shouted, face lit up like Christmas day. 

“The first fucking goal!” Louis shouted back, and Stan and a few other players came up to slap Harry’s back, so Louis put him down, grinning widely as they ran back to place. 

The second goal was by Stan, an assist via pass from Louis once Pirates tried to corner him in the middle of the field. Not the best idea or easiest one to manage, but they did their best, and Louis didn’t even glance to Harry, already could hear radio silence from his side that told him he wasn’t open. Stan, though, shouted his name, and Louis looked up only long enough to figure out exactly where to kick, and Stan headbutted it against the post of the goal, sending it in by deflection. 

Stan rubbed his head, but the meager crowd for Central shouted in the stands again, and Louis ran and put Stan in a headlock, shouting his name. 

Harry thrived off the energy of this game, running fast and swerving right better than he ever had. Those practice sessions with Louis came to life in this game, the second half when Central was still up 2-0, not comfortable enough to get complacent yet confident enough that they were performing at their peak.

He intercepted the only other pass from the Pirates, and his footwork was brilliant as he handled the football long enough to irritate the Pirates into crowding him, passing it to Louis. Louis managed to hold onto the ball until a slide tackle from a defender caught him off guard, sending the ball off to the wings again, and luckily, Harry had been keeping up with him, because he kicked between the feet of the Pirate who’d gotten the ball off the slide tackle, and was able to gain possession back for the Mustangs. 

He scored the last and final goal of the game, as well, lifting his shirt up over his head and screaming as he ran back to position. He was a boy on fire, almost, and Louis had no idea how he wasn’t _exhausted_ , because Louis was, a little, the carbs from their early, light team dinner already burned and spent. 

The game ended in time, and the Pirates were upset – some of them crying – but good sports about it, and Louis gave them his respect for the way they played and ended the game in such good sportsmanship.

The speech Coach made after the game was short and to the point; he could see the boys were tired, and he gave them ten minutes to say hi to whoever had come to watch and support, and then they were to pack up on the bus for the hotel. 

Louis’ family hadn’t come out, since it was a school night, but Robin and Anne were there, all smiles and enthusiasm and pride. That pride extended to Louis, as well, and Robin had rambled on and on to Louis and Harry about how well they had both played, making Harry blush and draw circles in the dewy grass with his cleat, squeezing Louis’ hand in bashfulness. Anne had promised they could go to dinner the next night, once she got off work, and Harry only blushed more, pleased and shy under all the attention. He even hummed when Louis kissed him, chastely, as it was right in front of Anne and Robin. Coach called them back, then, and they took hasty showers and ran onto the bus, Harry clutching his shirt and running across the parking lot in only socks because he hadn’t had time to clothe himself fully. 

After winning the second game in the State competition, the Central Mustangs were that much closer to the semi-finals, and that gorgeous State Champion title. They were also very, very tired. It had been one of their most physically grueling games yet, what with the Pirates’ method of doing basically nothing but aggressively trying to get the ball away from the Mustangs and then passing from Pirate to Pirate when they had possession, erratically and illogically, as far as Louis could tell. While the Mustangs had dominated when they were on the offensive, playing defense against the Pirates ended up being ridiculously hard, and Louis could see how they’d made it so far in the high school season. 

So, riding the bus to the hotel they would be staying at for the night before going home the next day, the Mustangs were given a bye week in the competition, since the game between Jefferson and Boerne over closer to Burnet had been rescheduled due to a thunder storm-turned-flashflood warning. They’d barely had time to shower off in the locker rooms, and it was humid, anyway, leaving the bus overly hot and faintly smelly, tired of nineteen hot, tired teenage boys, a coach, and a trainer. And the bus driver. 

Really, Louis just wanted to rest just a bit. It was a forty-minute drive to the hotel, and though Louis wasn’t _sleep_ -kind of tired, he wanted to close his eyes and relax for the ride’s duration. He claimed the window seat, and Harry didn’t mind, it seemed, because he just slid close enough that their arms brushed together. Louis angled his body away, leaning against the cool side of the window, but slid his legs over one of Harry’s knees, and smiled sleepily as he slid a hand underneath Harry’s, letting their pinkies cross. Louis felt an earbud being pressed into his left ear and smiled, hearing Kelly Rowland and knowing Harry’s iPod must have died, and Harry had accepted defeat and was listening to Louis’ mainstream. Louis felt himself drifting, body swaying with Sam the Bus Driver heading North, to a town on the other side of College Station, where they’d played against the Pirates.

“Lou.”

Louis heard Harry’s voice, but he was tired and they were on a noisy, smelly, cramped bus, so he ignored him, hoping he’d take the hint and let Louis sleep. 

Instead, Harry poked Louis’ arm a few times, and then tapped his skin gently with a few fingertips. “Lou,” he said. “Louis.” Louis whined, trying to make it seem like he’d fallen asleep and Harry was about to wake him up, but Harry just switched from tapping Louis’ forearm to stroking it, softly petting. “ _Louis_ ,” Harry said, a little more urgently.

“ _What_ , you awful, awful person?” Louis finally said irritably, and there was a pause before Harry was suddenly much closer. 

His breath fanned out across Louis’ neck and jaw as Harry kissed right below Louis’ ear. “Want you tonight,” he breathed, a little bit of strain in his quiet voice. “When we get to the hotel. _Soon_ as we get in our room, I _want_ you.”

Louis shifted in his seat, eyes still closed and fighting an internal battle. Shifting caused Louis’ leg to move, where his shin was rested between Harry’s legs, and Louis had to inhale sharply, because he felt Harry stiff in his shorts. 

Louis opened his eyes and turned his head just enough to face Harry, blinking at Harry’s unexpected closeness – their noses brushed and Louis nearly went cross-eyes, so he focused on Harry’s lips when he spoke. “Then you’ll have me,” he said, his sleepy voice a little husky. Harry grinned, and leaned in just enough to brush his lips against Louis’ – mindful they were still on a bus, then – before he pulled back, and Louis trailed his fingers across the back of his hand as he went. 

It was soon apparent that Louis wouldn’t be sleeping, though, because Harry couldn’t stay still, fingers fidgeting over Louis’ arm and legs, still in Harry’s lap. Louis sighed and shifted closer, curling up so that Harry had to move as well, wrapping a twitchy arm around Louis’ back to keep Louis close to his side. 

Louis absent-mindedly traced circles on Harry’s upper thigh with his finger, looking out the window of the seat across from them to see if he could figure out where they were, but it was too dark. Louis noted the hitch in Harry’s breath, but was lost in – admittedly, very sexy – thoughts, and jumped when he felt Harry’s fingertips dip under the waistband of Louis’ shorts, caressing Louis’ hip. Louis looked away from the window, eyes snapping to Harry, but Harry was biting his lip and looking down at his lap, where Louis’ finger was gliding over his inner thigh. 

“Sorry, is this bothering you?” Louis asked, for lack of anything better to say. He felt like he was meant to say something – anything – but didn’t know what. 

“I – no,” Harry whispered, but his voice was shaky, so Louis stopped, shifting away just enough to get a good look at Harry’s face. The movement pulled Harry’s fingers out from under his waistband, and Harry met Louis’ eye a little reluctantly. 

“What is it, sweetheart?” Louis asked quietly, drawing his brows together as he scratched lightly for a second at Harry’s bicep, just needing to touch him.

Harry shook his head, though, eyes looking a little clearer. “It’s – no, I just haven’t, erm. …In, like, somewhere people could see? I don’t usually think, like, dirty things. When I’m – out, somewhere. But, you know, erm, Kelly Rowland has some…suggestive songs, and – well.”

Louis smiled a little, glancing around carefully and leaning in to hug Harry tenderly just for a second. “It’s nothing wrong with it,” he assured Harry quietly. “It happens to everyone, especially when they’re with someone sexually on a pretty regular basis, like me and you.”

Harry seemed a little relieved, his cheeks still a little pink, and he swallowed and leaned in closer. “It’s – no, I, erm. I kind of, like, like it, maybe? It’s – kind of embarrassing.”

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Louis began, but Harry interrupted, shifting restlessly.

“No, I – I think maybe I…like the embarrassment, in a way, like a tiny little bit, or something. I just – it’s kind of dirty, to – the things I want to do tonight, right? And we’re on a bus full of our teammates who don’t know anything about us, and – well, you know. It’s kind of…like, thrilling, I think. A little bit.”

Louis felt his mouth curving into a devilish smile, already thinking of ways to explore that, once Harry got much more comfortable with his sexual side. As it were, now, he simply wrinkled his nose cutely at Harry, who dug his fingers into Louis’ hip and whispered, “I still want you tonight. Really – like, a lot.”

Louis licked his lips, watching Harry watch, and said, “Guess it’s lucky Chibuzo didn’t want to room with you.” 

Since Coach knew Harry and Louis were a couple, he was obligated to not let them room together. It sucked, but Louis understood (or pretended to, because Harry had pouted for nearly an hour and _one_ of them had to be the responsible one). Louis had gotten Scot, a junior who was nice enough, but very quiet, and Harry had gotten stuck with Chibuzo, who almost immediately had started looking for someone to switch. A few casual hints thrown their way and _bam_ , they were fine. 

It only took a few more minutes to reach the hotel, and most of the boys immediately left for their rooms. Louis had to stay with Coach to double check the equipment was locked up safely on the bus, and he sent Harry ahead so it didn’t look suspicious. 

When Louis knocked on the door, Harry opened it and pulled him in by the collar of his shirt, shutting the door and pulling him into a kiss that was hot and messy, surprisingly desperate for kisses before they even touched. 

“Want you – I – I want your fingers, I want you to try,” Harry stuttered as he grinded his hips against Louis’, and Louis felt his brain melt. 

He pushed Harry down onto the bed, falling after him just to the side, close enough that they lined their bodies up, touching from chest to feet. “Are you sure?” Louis checked, drawing fingers down Harry’s side. 

Harry shivered, but nodded, his hands sliding all over Louis’ body as he spoke. “It’s – I’ve been thinking about it, and I – yeah, like. I want it, right, and I love you, and I know you’ll – I know you’ll, like, do it right, and, erm, make sure it’s good and stuff, and.” Harry swallowed, his voice breathy when he continued. “And we have a bye week, so even if it’s – like, even if I’m sore, or something…I read that happens, sometimes, and Niall – said that, like, if you, erm, do so much, like at once, then it can be sore even if you’re careful, so it’s basically either, like, now or – or, you know, we have to wait _months_ , hopefully, with State and Regionals and all. I – unless you don’t, tonight.”

“Harry, babe,” Louis interrupted once Harry started doubting himself, “there is seriously probably nothing you can come up with that I don’t want to try with you.” Harry grinned, rolling his hips against Louis’ jerkily, like he hadn’t meant to, but Louis gripped one of his hands. “But I didn’t expect that; I don’t have any lube, babe,” he admitted apologetically.

Harry chewed his lip, hesitating before he asked slowly, “Is it – like, do we _have_ to…? Can we – do it without?”

“No,” Louis said firmly, his mind (and cock) screaming at him. 

Harry blushed wildly, then, and hesitated some more before he got off the bed and moved to his school bag. Before Louis could ask what he was doing, Harry glanced back over his shoulder, skin still bright red, and explained while he rifled through his bag. “I – erm, when I talked to Niall about this, he said you might not do it without, but I didn’t have a way to buy any of my own, so I – borrowed the one he keeps in his nightstand - _ah_ ,” he smiled and held the bottle of lube up in the air, showing Louis triumphantly.

“Let me get this straight,” Louis began mock-seriously as Harry moved back to the bed, “you went over to your best friend’s house to ask about fingering. He gave you the advice to use lube, so you stole a bottle from his nightstand? And now, you want me to use stolen personal lubricant to finger your arse hole for the first time ever.”

A little nervously, Harry answered, “…Yeah?”

Louis shrugged. “Alright, come here, then.”

Harry laughed loudly but let himself topple onto the bed, resting the lube between them and bringing their mouths together. 

Louis kissed Harry sweetly, but Harry was in overdrive, sliding his tongue dirtily against Louis’, tracing lines on the roof of his mouth and sucking on Louis’ tongue. He moaned into every movement of Louis’ tongue or body, and when Harry broke the kiss, Harry just moved down to his neck. 

“Take your clothes off, baby, come on,” Louis said breathlessly, and helped Harry out of his clothes, laughing at Harry’s little wriggle to get his shorts and briefs off. His cock lay against his stomach fully hard, but before Louis could appreciate it, Harry was whining a little against Louis’ mouth, fingers struggling to pull off Louis’ bottoms. 

Once they were both naked, Louis scooted up to the top of the bed, snickering and patting the mattress when Harry just craned his neck back to watch Louis’ bum as he went. Harry blushed, but followed, flopping down on his back and spreading his legs as he reached to cup the back of Louis’ neck and pull him closer. 

Louis rolled his body on top of Harry’s and allowed the kiss Harry so desperately wanted, but ended it to kiss down Harry’s neck and chest. Harry’s breath hitched, as usual, when Louis dipped his tongue into his belly-button, his abs tensing a little, and Harry’s cock smeared a dot of precome on Louis’ chin. Harry’s hands stroked gently through Louis’ hair for a brief second before they moved to grip the covers on the bed, and Louis pushed Harry’s legs out a little further before he reached out for the lube. 

“Just let me know if you need a moment, okay?” He made sure to say, looking Harry in the eye so he’d know Louis was being serious. Harry nodded, biting his lip, and Louis could see his chest moving with his breaths a little faster than normal. 

Louis leaned up to kiss him, not letting Harry speed it up this time. He kept it sweet and reassuring, and Louis rubbed his lubed forefinger in circles with his thumb to warm the lube up a little before he looked Harry in the eye and rubbed his finger around Harry’s hole. 

Harry’s breath hitched, but he shifted his hips curiously, so Louis smiled and started pushing his finger in. To the first little knuckle, there was little resistance, but the second knuckle was a little more difficult, so Louis caressed Harry’s tummy with his free hand as he slowly rotated the finger sliding inside. “Relax, sweetheart,” he murmured, nodding encouragingly when Harry stopped tensing around his finger. “That’s it, good job. I’ll take care of you, you’re so lovely.”

Harry flushed and rolled his hips, and Louis took it as a signal to move his finger a little more. He thrust in and out a few times, liking the breathy sounds Harry was letting out unconsciously, and leaned down to press a kiss to Harry’s chest.

Harry whined, rolling his hips deep. “Can you – more?” His face was flushed, skin all the way down to his chest blotchy and mostly pink. His curls were everywhere, lips bitten and swollen red, open and gasping, and his eyes were wide, glassy but trained on Louis, focusing on him desperately, like Louis was the only thing keeping him from floating away. He squeezed his eyes shut for a second, rolling his hips again, and snapped his eyes open, looking like he could cry. “ _Please_ , more, Lou.”

“Shhh, I’ve got you,” Louis soothed, rubbing Harry’s tummy again. He pulled his finger most of the way out and slowly added his middle finger, watching Harry frown briefly, squirming his hips a little on the bed. It was over soon enough, though, and Louis pushed both fingers in and pulled them out together, pushing against the walls inside Harry instead of scissoring them open so soon. 

Harry groaned, low and deep, his legs spreading wider and bending his knees so his feet closed around Louis’ back, trying to pull him closer like he wanted more. Slowly, Louis scissored his fingers and Harry let out a strangled noise, fingers scrambling on the blanket until he grabbed the hand Louis had resting on his stomach, clutching it for dear life. “Oh! Louis, that – fu…” Harry cut himself off, throwing his head back when Louis’ middle finger brushed his prostate, a little squeak emerging from his lips. 

Louis hit it again, murmuring encouragement to Harry and trying not to rut off against the mattress. He was so hard; he couldn’t remember ever being this hard before. “You’ve got me so hard, Harry, fuck. You look so good like this, can’t believe I get to have you like this,” he babbled and Harry squeezed Louis’ hand even harder. 

Just as Louis started thrusting his fingers in and out faster, Harry choked out, “Love you, Lou.” 

Louis squeezed Harry’s hand, this time, and said clearly, “I love you, too, sweetheart.”

That was all Harry needed, apparently, and he kicked his left leg out as he came, arching and rolling his hips like he wanted to keep Louis’ fingers inside him forever. Louis fucked him through it, praising Harry in an incessant babble while Harry moaned, long and drawn out. 

Finally, he collapsed back onto the bed, and whined as Louis withdrew his fingers. Harry pulled Louis down, right on top of him, and wrapped his legs around Louis’ hips, pushing Louis’ cock down against his stomach. Harry hissed as the friction caught his spent dick, but he kissed Louis breathlessly and urged Louis to rub off against him, so Louis did. 

“Fuck,” Louis swore as he came, while Harry hummed as Louis’ come splashed out across his tummy. Louis rested his head in the crook of Harry’s neck, panting as he came down off his high. His fingers were still wet, and the knowledge of why was intoxicating, especially with the result lying underneath him, eyes glazed over and blown, skin patchy and hair wild. 

“Best hotel night _ever_ ,” Harry mumbled eventually, looking exhausted and utterly fucked out. 

“Are you okay?” Louis asked, lifting his head to check on his boyfriend. Seeing him look so wrecked gave Louis a sense of pride he’d never felt before, like at eighteen years old, with his sixteen-year-old boyfriend lying next to him sweaty, shaking, and exhausted, he’d finally done something important in his life.

“Best hotel night _ever_ ,” Harry repeated in a slur, already rolling slightly to his side, tipping Louis off him. Harry _hmmph_ ed, pushing Louis until he was in the right position, and curled up against him with a satisfied sigh. “’Ve you,” he said, and Louis smiled, using the hotel’s blanket to wipe the come off Harry’s stomach.

“Love you, too,” he answered, knowing they’d need to talk about how Harry felt after his first time being fingered. They could talk in the morning. For now, sleep.


	48. Part 47.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to say thank you guys for your patience! I know it's been nearly two months since I updated; in my defense, I was writing a freaking monster of an mpreg fic for a theme-thing! Sorry! I love you all!   
> Here it is, in all its glory: Part 47. There's no sadness, also no sex but it's simply an advancement chapter so I hope you'll excuse me - I'm already writing the next chapter and I'm pretty far in it, if it makes it any better!
> 
> Just a reminder that **Touch is ending**. I think I'm gonna be able to manage 50 chapters - which means three more until the end. POSSIBLY an epilogue, if I feel like I don't have enough time, but most likely it'll end with fifty chapters. 
> 
> ADDITIONAL REMINDER that I will continue with this 'verse and I'll write timestamps and stuff, so the end of the fic isn't the end of 'Touch', not at all. Don't be sad. Also, another reminder: check the tags. I update them after every single update post, so if you're not sure if you should look out for something, it's in the tags. That goes for EVERY fic. I tag like crazy; I don't like people to be surprised. (I mean, I do, but not caught off guard or anything, because underneath the bitch, I'm actually kind;P)
> 
> Thank you! I love you all! Feedback is always nice, stay tuned to @Kotabear24 if you want any additional heads-up, sneak peeks, secrets I've tucked away into writing, or just to say hi! xxxxx

Harry whined as he plopped down in the front seat of Louis’ car. “I’m _beat_ ,” he said, leaning the seat all the way back. “I think I’m going to die. Louis, I might die.” Louis just laughed, though, and Harry huffed. “Nice to know you’re worried about be dying tragically,” he grumbled, though he was grinning. 

Louis smiled over at Harry and then arranged his face into a false pout. “Poor baby Harry a wittle tired?” He asked, eyebrows bent almost comically in faux-pity. 

Harry laughed – he couldn’t help it – and then coughed, grabbing his water bottle and swigging. At this, Louis looked _actually_ a little concerned. “All good,” Harry assured him. “Just haven’t drank as much as I should; these – _things_ make my throat itch.”

Louis nodded and leaned forward, kissing Harry’s temple. “You had a great practice today,” he complimented. Harry smiled. “I think we’re really gonna massacre Mission day after next.”

Harry nodded, clenching his fists. “I think so, too,” he said, buckling up as Louis started backing out of the parking lot. “But if I don’t get my homework for stupid World History done, Mum’s not even gonna let me out of the _house_.” Harry heard Louis chuckle, but he was already texting Niall and Liam, inviting them over for some study time. “You’re so lucky you’re a senior,” Harry whined, setting his phone down and looking over to Louis. “The teachers are taking it easy on you guys; my teachers are preparing us for junior year and basically saying it’s gonna be awful.”

Louis snorted. “The only reason they’re going easy on us is because we _survived_ junior year,” he said, grimacing sympathetically to Harry. “Junior year is hell.”

Harry huffed, scrunching his nose. “Thanks for the assurance,” he said, and Louis laughed and rubbed his thigh for a moment. “Liam and Niall are coming over for a study session,” Harry said. “Wanna text Stan and Zayn?”

“Do it for me?” Louis asked, and Harry texted them, as well. “I didn’t know Robin was here today,” he added, and Harry looked up, seeing Robin’s car in their driveway.

“Neither did I,” Harry said, shrugging. It was a little strange of Robin and Harry’s mum to not let him know when Robin would be coming over, but it wasn’t the end of the world. Harry and Louis would probably be up in Harry’s room the whole time, until dinner, anyway.

They pulled up into Harry’s driveway and got out, Harry walking slowly because apparently, he couldn’t text and walk at a normal pace simultaneously. Louis grabbed their bags from the back of his car and _still_ beat Harry to the door. 

Finally, Harry finished his conversation for a moment, and smiled at Louis for opening the door for him. As soon as he stepped into the entry way, Harry heard giggles and old country music, coming from the dining room. “Mum? Robin?”

“In the kitchen,” Anne called out, and Harry looked back at Louis, confused, before they walked down the entry way towards the kitchen. When they got there, Harry’s eyes widened, just a bit.

Maybe it was that he had never seen Robin in street clothes – or, actually, anything more casual than dress pants and at least a button-up shirt. Even at games, Robin was always well-dressed, and Harry hadn’t ever actually considered that he might own faded, stain-covered jeans and stained T-shirts. Yet there he was, standing in messy clothes with glittery paint streaked across his face, bent over a giant white poster. Next to him, Harry’s mum was wiping off her fingers on a dirty dishrag, staining it maroon and she had paint in her hair. When Harry and Louis came in, she smiled and turned down the radio. 

“Hi, boys,” she greeted. “How was school?”

“It was alright,” Harry said, eyeing her and Robin. “Erm, why are you…why do you have paint all over you?”

“We’re making posters,” Robin said, and pointed to where he was holding a giant stencil of a running horse to a poster board. “For the game! We’re gonna put your number and Louis’ number on it, too.”

Harry smiled, a little, subtly leaning back into Louis when Robin walked past him to grab a drink from the fridge.

“That’s awesome,” Louis answered for them, “thanks!”

“It was Robin’s idea; I can’t even take credit for it,” Anne deferred, and Robin emerged from the fridge to roll his eyes at her. 

Instead of replying, he sang along to the music, coming up in front of Anne and scooping a hand up, placing his other on her waist, and started dancing with her. “Be my Dixie chicken, I’ll be your Tennessee lamb…”

“Er – we’re gonna go study,” Harry said, not wanting to witness his mum being _embarrassing_ and weird. “The guys are gonna come over in a while, too, okay, Mum?”

“That’s fine,” she said, laughing as Robin spun her. She tried to make eye contact with Harry, her face happy and lit up, but she was spinning too much and Harry couldn’t quite catch her. “Have fun!”

Harry snorted and walked up to his room, Louis following and holding his hand. When they entered Harry’s room, Harry dropped his backpack to the ground in front of his bed and flopped down on it. Louis sat down next to him and wrapped his hand absent-mindedly around Harry’s ankle, fingers circling it and finger _tips_ rubbing at the flex of Harry’s ankle. 

They sat quietly until that patch of skin started getting a little sensitized, and having that same spot getting rubbed over and over again almost started to hurt, in a way. Harry looked down to watch Louis’ fingers, wondering if he had a sore on his ankle, or something, but he got distracted by the stark contrast between the dark tan of Louis’ fingers and the paleness of Harry’s ankle. Louis tapped his fingertips against Harry’s skin, and suddenly, all Harry could think about was those exact fingers being… _inside_ him not even a week ago. 

Harry swallowed, thinking about how good Louis had made him feel, two fingers _down there_ and doing…that. Harry’s penis had been hard as steel that entire time, even though he’d been super nervous, Niall having told him it would definitely hurt. It _had_ , but not as much as Niall had made it sound like. Louis had been insanely gentle with Harry, touching him all over, not just his – bum – and kissing him and telling Harry he loved him. 

And it had felt so _intimate_. Louis had been _inside_ Harry, two fingers doing _things_ to him, and Louis had looked at Harry like…

Louis had looked at him like he thought he was perfect. 

“Love you,” Harry said quietly, wiggling his foot. 

Louis smiled up at Harry and leaned over to kiss the ankle he’d just been rubbing. “Love you, too,” he replied. They stared at each other for a quiet peaceful moment, and then Harry steeled himself.

“School work time,” he blurted out, leaning forward to hoist his backpack up to him. Next to Harry, Louis snorted lightly and unzipped his own bag.

\---

Harry huffed as he wove his way through a sea of players. “I’m open!” Harry shouted several times, but the crowd was so much bigger than the last three games had been. They had won their last game, making them champions of Region 2 in the state, and now they were in the true state bracket, playing against the Wakeland Wolverines in Brownsville, at the Rivera High School stadium. The field was bigger, and Harry hadn’t been paying nearly enough attention to his diet, a massive cramp in his side from running so much. 

“Harry!” 

Harry looked to find the ball, knowing Louis was sending it his way. Receiving it, Harry faked left around a midfielder and double-crossed right, kicking it not far in front of him, because the Wolverines were fond of sliding in to steal. Harry didn’t want to give them that opportunity; not when Harry noticed the group of scouts up in the top box, leaning against the desks right in front of the huge glass window. 

Harry had to chip the ball up, over a slide tackle, and the Wolverine defender shot his hand up like a reflex he couldn’t control, touching the ball and giving Harry a kick-in. 

His instinct was to send it straight to Louis, but the Wolverines must have watched footage of the Mustangs, because they seemed to know Harry and Louis’ dynamic. Instead, Harry sent it to a junior named Andrew, who fumbled for a heart-stopping second before getting it together and cannon-balling it upfield to Stan, who took it from there. 

When the last minute was up, the game was tied, and they went into sudden death. Coach had Harry kick first, so after the Wolverine player made an attempt (which was blocked, thankfully), Harry stood on the line, hands clenching and staring at Louis, who was sheep-dogging players left and right yet still somehow managing to convey his calmness to Harry through constant looks and reassuring facial expressions. 

Harry held his hand up, taking a few steps back, and ran for it, sending the ball up at a curving arc – a beautiful one, really – and ran after it, always ready. His heart nearly stopped when the goalie blocked it, tackling the ball and curling his hands over it like a precious child. Harry grinded his teeth and kicked the turf, shaking his arms like he could get rid of the overwhelming disappointment. Of all the goals he’d made in this season, he’d only missed two attempts. Why did one of those attempts have to be in a _semi-final state championship game_?

“Watch it, Styles,” Stan said, clapping Harry in the back as he ran past him. “Shake it off, kid! Louis’ up next.”

At least that made Harry feel better. The next Wolverine to make an attempt was kicked out of the line by Stan, allowing for a kick-in that was saved again, and Harry could have sank to his knees and prayed in thankfulness right there. It meant that, if Louis made this goal, the game would be over and won, and the Central High Mustangs would be finalists in the state championship. When Louis went up to kick, next, he sent the ball flying hard. 

The goalie slapped at the ball, but it deflected and the football went flying back out towards the field, making at an angle that would send it out of the lines. Louis bolted after it, a Wolverine defender moving towards it, as well, and Harry tried to run as parallel as he could, hating that he couldn’t cross over to the other side of the field and get into the thick of the action. 

Louis took a risky kick, landed wrong, and fell off to the side just as the ball went flying back towards the goal. This time, it glanced off the goalie’s glovetips and hit the net, and every Mustang player – even Scot, who was now on crutches after a stupid skateboarding accident – hurried over to him as fast as possible, arms open wide and screaming. Behind them, in front of them, above them… _everywhere_ , it seemed like, Mustang fans and faculty and students were going crazy, hollering and shouting and screeching at the tops of their lungs. 

Stan got to Louis first, but Harry wasn’t far behind, and he jumped up and down, glad that Louis was perfectly fine after a strange-looking fall like that, and Louis fisted Harry’s jersey as they jumped together, the whole team crowding around and Coach looking like he’d just won the lottery. Even the trainers, sweaty with the humidity and usually irate with it, were jumping around the team huddle. 

\---

Harry huffed as Louis rolled on top of him, his throaty laughter turning into a groan when he felt Louis’ mouth on his throat, wet, glossy lips gliding over his skin and tongue roughing it up between them. 

“I’m so proud of you, Louis,” Harry babbled, running his hands underneath Louis’ disgusting jersey. “So proud. Those scouts saw every second of that play; you were incredible the entire game, but _that play_ …” Harry moaned when he felt his penis starting to harden up; they didn’t have _time_. “No, no, Lou, come on,” Harry urged, pushing Louis’ face away from his neck, only to pull him back in for a kiss. “Mmm, no, come on – Mum, Robin, Jay, the girls – _Lou_ ,” Harry laughed, exasperated and a not-little sexually aroused. 

Louis whined and rolled his hips, kissing Harry again, but then he sighed, knowing there was no way out of it; they didn’t have time for anything sexy. 

The entire team had gone back to the hotel, as stated in UIL rules – if a group of students went on a school-approved trip, they had to stay in the same place unless there was an emergency – but Harry’s mum and Robin and Louis’ family had wanted to celebrate. Luckily, the hotel had a small food court in the lobby, so they’d all agreed to eat there, opting out of the meal plan Coach had gotten approved through the school and hotel. 

Harry and Louis had gone up to their (separate) rooms to change, but Louis had accosted Harry and spouted off something about how teammates should stick together and really, Harry hadn’t needed any convincing. 

“Go change; you stink,” Harry laughed, giving in to one last kiss before he pushed Louis towards his overnight bag. When Louis bent down over it, digging through his clothes, Harry sighed wistfully as he stared at the sight in front of him. “It’s too bad we couldn’t get the same room.”

“I know,” Louis frowned as he pulled off his jersey. Harry was his boyfriend. He was allowed to stare. Really, he was probably morally _obligated_ to stare at his half-naked boyfriend. “I would _love_ to celebrate tonight, but I don’t think Stan’s gonna be up for it,” he added with a wink, immediately changing his face to exaggeratedly pout. Harry rolled his eyes, smiling to try and hide his blush at Louis’ initial insinuation. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” Louis said, then, tying the string of his athletic shorts he’d pulled on. “Let’s go get you into some clean clothes.”

\---

Harry cracked his eyes open as he heard the blinker in Louis’ car flicker on. As Louis pressed the brake gently and turned down Harry’s street, he _hmm_ ’d curiously. 

“What?” Harry asked him, and Louis nodded his head forward, towards Harry’s block of houses. 

“I’m used to having the nicest car on your street,” he teased, and Harry looked over, now intrigued. 

Sure enough, the Watsons’ usually-empty spare driveway space (the first usually empty, as Mrs. Watson was a stay-at-home old woman with nothing to do but garden and grumble at the few children who rode their scooters “too fast” and therefore didn’t really need a car, and her husband, Mr. Watson, still worked all the time at the glass-packing plant downtown) was filled with a Mercedes – Harry couldn’t tell what kind; he could only see the emblem he’d come to recognize from afternoons spent in Louis’ house and the mechanic’s shop. 

Harry hummed thoughtfully, more tired and willing to agree with whatever Louis babbled about than actually interested, and mentally shrugged before he put it from his mind, gathering his bag as he unbuckled. “Thanks for the ride home,” he told Louis, smiling happily at him. “Love you.”

Louis leaned in for a kiss, looking amused at Harry’s sleepiness. “I love you, too,” he said, and waited until Harry was in the door to his house before he drove off. 

Harry stirred the meat in the crock pot for dinner, glad he’d thought ahead, since he knew today’s practice would be pure _torture_ – more mentally than physically, though the physical aspect was certainly very much present – since he’d missed that shot at the semi-finals and had been having a bit of difficulty keeping up. 

Harry grabbed himself a handful of grapes and walked up to his room, deciding to take a nap until Niall and Liam were due over to hang out, since Harry’d barely gotten to see them unless they were studying or in class, lately. 

What felt like seconds later, Harry was being pelted in the face with grapes while Niall shouted, “Wake up, wake up, wake up!”

“Niall, you could at least be nicer,” Harry heard Liam scold quietly, and Harry opened his eyes to see his two best friends sitting on his best. 

“Honestly, Harry you were out like a light!” Niall exclaimed. “Coulda come in here and thumped you right on the nose.”

Harry rolled his eyes and sat up, rubbing his face. He felt a grape pressing against his knee, where it had fallen and rolled around as the bed dipped from their movements, and picked it up, glanced at it, shrugged and then popped it in his mouth. “Hey, guys,” he greeted, stretching for just a moment to get the tiredness from his face and voice. He’d missed these boys; he wanted to hang out with them. 

Of course, the conversation rolled around to Louis and Harry and Niall and Zayn and Liam and Danielle, so even though Harry blushed, he wasn’t surprised when he felt himself blurting out, “We did it,” to his best friends. 

There was a beat of silence, and then Niall asked, “Wait, you fucked?”

Harry blushed even darker and shook his head, eyes wide. “No, I mean – not _it_ , but, erm…” He looked over at Liam, unsure how to go about it. “Li, erm, do you…”

Liam rolled his eyes and shifted. “Harry, there’s nothing gross about gay sex,” he said calmly. “You’re not gonna gross me out, or anything. Straight couples can do pretty much everything gay couples can do, you know.”

Niall snickered. “What, so Dani likes it up the arse, Li?”

Liam blushed and coughed, clearly uncomfortable, and like true Liam form, he didn’t actually answer the question with a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’. Instead, he ducked his head and said, “She’s a dancer,” as if that gave Harry any answers. 

“You’ve fucked Danielle in the arse!” Niall shouted, shocked laughter spilling from his lips as Liam fought to hurriedly shush Niall.

“God, Niall, you don’t know if Anne’s home yet!” He whisper-shouted, slapping Niall on the shoulder. Niall didn’t look scolded though; he simply kept laughing and giving Liam interested eyes – the ones that meant trouble.

“So?” He asked, and then waited. When neither Harry nor Liam knew what he wanted, Niall sighed. “Did she _like_ it?” Niall asked, and Liam looked up at the ceiling as he shook his head.

“Ni, when do I ever go into detail about sex with Danielle?” He asked rhetorically, and Niall huffed and turned his attention back onto Harry. 

“So, what did you and Louis do?” He asked, setting his chin in his hand which was propped up on his knee. 

Harry blushed, looking back and forth between his friends and his own knee before he finally confessed, “We did – er, after the – after the Hidalgo game, we shared a hotel room, and he – oh, erm.” Harry leaned over and grabbed his football bag, reaching down to the bottom with a fire-red face. When he found the bottle of lubricant, he bit his lip and handed it back to Niall. 

“Is that –” Niall burst into laughter while Harry felt his face would melt right off his head for blushing so hard. “You little shit,” Niall chuckled, snatching the lubricant from Harry’s hand. “You stole my lube! I hope Louis put this to good use; I missed, like, fifty orgasms because I’ve been missing this!”

Harry had the decency to make his face look sorry. “It’s – erm, it’s just that I knew it would…be a really good time to – do that – because of our schedules and stuff, so I wanted to – be prepared. I mean, Lou’s always prepared if I ask him to, er…if I tell him I want to do something beforehand, but I – didn’t know how to ask him until, you know, I, like. Did. And then we almost _didn’t_ because he’s so, like, not-assuming that he didn’t bring anything, which, like, that was an embarrassing revelation, that I stole your – yeah. But he was really adamant that we use it, which, _now_ I get why, because it would’ve been awful, but it – erm, it…wasn’t. Awful, I mean. It wasn’t awful.”

Harry avoided his friends’ eyes until he felt the bed move, and then Niall was next to him, leaning against the wall with an arm slung over Harry’s shoulders. “Good on you, Harry!” He said, nuzzling up against Harry’s shoulder for just a moment. “I’m happy for you. One, ‘cause you’re gettin’ some, but more importantly that you’re getting comfortable with your body and even more with Louis. I hate to bring it serious, like that, but me and Liam are really happy for you.”

Harry looked over at Niall and then at Liam, who was nodding and smiling peacefully, like he was totally relaxed and not upset at Harry’s confession at all. 

“Just one request,” Niall said, rubbing Harry’s head. “Let’s go buy you your _own_ fucking lube.”


	49. Part 48.

Louis bounced on his toes as stood in the doorway of the locker room that exited out on the field. Completely useless; Louis was supposed to be changing and getting ready. He couldn’t stop, though. This was The Big One. 

Central Mustangs against the Dripping Springs Tigers. Lake Travis stadium. State championship. 

They were ready. Louis was shitting himself.

He looked up to the stands, which were filled to the brim with maroon and white, loads of signs and cheering even though the game hadn’t even started. Up in the press box, Louis could clearly see Mr. Riverez and Mr. Leslie, talking and completely relaxed. They were here for him. Maybe for someone else, too, but they were here for _him_. Louis might throw up.

“Tommo. Ready?”

Louis’ head snapped up to where Stan had called cheerfully when he walked into the locker room. Behind him, Louis could see Harry and the rest of the team making their way in, and Louis took a deep breath. This was his team. This was _his_ team. Louis puffed up his chest and let loose an animalistic, wordless yell, and almost immediately, it was echoed back by nineteen boys, all crowding in close and hyping themselves up for the game. Louis was ready. They were ready.

\---

Louis couldn’t describe how it felt to have the game-winning kick. He stood in front of the camera for 13-WMAZ with Christy Lively holding a microphone up to his sweaty, hard-breathing face. 

“I’m here with Louis Tomlinson, senior captain of the winning team for the 2013 state champions, the Central High School Mustangs. Louis, you made the last goal, winning the 4-3 game for the Mustangs on your last game for your high school career. That has to feel incredible.”

Louis looked at Christy Lively, at the lights, at the camera, and finally, over to the side, where Harry was still in a jumping, screaming, crying huddle with his teammates, though he was looking around for Louis. “I feel invincible,” Louis breathed. 

“As you should,” the anchorwoman encouraged kindly, and turned a bit more to the camera. “With seconds on the clock, Tomlinson received a pass from the sophomore starter, Harry Styles, and ran upfield with it. Dodging player after play, rainbowing, chipping, and feinting were only a few of the mind-games Tomlinson used to distract and confuse his opponents, and they, paired with his incredible speed, created an opening for Tomlinson to line up a clear shot and take it, winning the state championship for his team. Louis, do you have any words to describe your 2013 team, right now?”

Louis stared at her, shaking his head – because what could he say? – but then, once again, Harry caught his eye, standing still and smiling over at him. _I love you_ , he mouthed, and Louis gave a hysterical laugh, trying to keep it together in front of the camera. Scouts would undoubtedly watch this; he had to be professional as possible. “I – we won it together,” Louis babbled. “I scored the last goal, but it could have easily been someone else. We played a great game against an incredible team – the Dripping Springs Tigers really…they were an amazing team, and they should be so proud of themselves. Our defense was a little tighter, but it’s – it’s – really, it’s just down to opportunities, and I think we got incredible lucky and played our best as a team. This team is such an incredible group of boys, and I’m so proud of all of them, and so proud to be bringing back the title of state champs to the high school I’ve thrived in. It’s – they’re all so talented and amazing and hard-working, and I know without a doubt in my mind that without a single one of them, we could not have ever gotten this far, and I hope that if they see this later tonight, or whenever you put it on, that they know how proud of them and how honored I am to have been their teammate and captain.”

Louis was emotional. Everyone was emotional; Harry’s face was covered in grass stains, dirt, tears, a bit of Gatorade, and buckets of sweat. Everyone in a Mustangs jersey was crying, and Louis’ nostrils flared as he swallowed to keep the proud tears back. 

“Excellent words, Louis. Rumor has it, you’ve been scouted pretty seriously by several colleges and universities; have you verbally committed or signed on anywhere?”

“No, ma’am,” Louis answered, eyes flicking between her and Harry, who was caught up in hugging Stan. Louis wanted to be with his team. “No, I’m – between two, actually, but I haven’t had the opportunity yet to speak personally with either of them, between championships and finals.”

“Any last words, Louis?” Christy asked, doing a fake camera laugh. “I can see you’re ready to go celebrate.”

“Sorry, erm – yeah, just – I’m so…Again, I’m just so proud of the way we’ve grown as a team and the way we performed tonight, and every night, really. I could not be prouder – more proud, sorry – of the boys, I love them, I’m so – I’m so pleased.”

Louis was released from the glare of the camera light and ran over, shouting and yelling the way he wished he’d been doing, and the yells started right back up again. On the other side of the fence, Louis could see everyone’s families and friends, but he wasn’t ready to leave the happiness of his team, yet. He shouted, he ran, he did fucking cartwheels in front of the goal and did a pull-up on the top of the goalpost. Harry cheered with him and Louis picked him up and kissed him, walking around with his arms around Harry’s waist and under his bum until he tripped and they fell, twisting so that Louis took the brunt of it, groaning for a minute until Harry tried to move off of him. Louis tightened his grip and then cupped Harry’s disgustingly-soaked face, bringing him in for a passionate kiss that Louis never wanted to end. 

“I love you so much,” Louis said, and felt tears on his cheek, falling from Harry’s eyes. Louis knew the feeling. He couldn’t believe how happy he was in that moment, his family waiting with eyes on him and his boyfriend, seeing how hyped up and euphoric he was. Wildly, Louis was thankful that he didn’t have to drive home; he’d wreck the car on accident with the way he was feeling. He just could not – he had no words to describe his emotional state right now, and ‘happy’ only went so far before it couldn’t hold a candle to the feeling. 

Someone threw a water bottle at them and it hit Harry in the hip, and he broke the kiss with an unhappy sound. Louis looked over and saw Niall jumping up and down, his hand in Zayn’s as he laughed. Louis pegged him as the guilty offender. 

“Littering’s a crime, you bastard,” he called out, and Harry giggled, dropping his head to Louis’ collarbone. He kissed the dirty, sweaty skin before he got up, pulling Louis up with him with a groan and then a laugh.

“I’m already feeling sore,” he admitted, and Louis was, too. Before he could answer, though, Harry just brought him into a hug and held onto him tight. “I can’t believe we won,” he kept saying over and over again, in between ‘I love you’s and ‘I’m so proud of us’es. 

Eventually, they parted and made their way towards their family and friends, hands slipped through each other’s fingers and gripping tight. Louis and Harry got pulled into a three-person huddle between Liam, Niall, and Zayn, though Zayn made it clear he was only carrying on so enthusiastically to indulge Niall, who was probably two seconds from coming in his pants, if Louis were to judge by the happy look on his face. 

They were stopped by family, next, and Daisy climbed right up on Harry’s back while he was squatted down to say hi to Phoebe. He let her stay there, though, arms coming up to grab onto her legs, and Louis had a brief moment of relief that she was so light, or she might hurt his back. Louis’ mum shrouded them in kisses and then wiped her lips with a disgusted face even though she was laughing, and Anne hugged them both, Robin clapping them on the back, reaching a bit more so he could keep his distance when it was Harry’s turn. 

Louis couldn’t hardly take his eyes off of Harry’s face, and Louis wanted to kiss him so badly. So, with Phoebe on his back, Louis did just that, only stopping when someone cleared their throat, next to him. Louis pulled back, just a touch annoyed, and his jaw dropped when he realized who was standing in front of them. 

“Mr. Riverez,” Harry stammered out. Louis couldn’t believe it.

Behind him, Louis finally found his tongue – “Mr. Riverez. Erm, hi…this is Harry Styles, my teammate.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Styles,” Mr. Riverez said breezily, shaking Louis’ hand, and then he did a friendly smile and wave to Daisy, who peeked around Harry’s head nosily. “Mr. Tomlinson, it’s a pleasure to meet you, too,” he added, and Louis took a hand from Phoebe’s thigh to shake the scout’s hand. “I am Dominique Riverez, an athletic talent scout for the University of North Florida.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m – it’s a pleasure here, too. Erm, you’ve – I’m going to be honest, I have no idea what I’m supposed to say to you,” Louis admitted, overwhelmed and laughing about it. Beside him, Harry clapped his shoulder in a weird pal-kind of way. It was wrong, and before he could walk away, Louis gripped his wrist and kept him firmly next to him. Louis needed Harry; Harry made him strong. 

Mr. Riverez just laughed good-naturedly, and over the loudness of the stadium emptying out still, over the volume of Anne and Robin and Jay and the girls and Niall and Liam and Zayn, over the thrum of adrenaline in his veins, Louis realized: this man could be holding Louis’ fate in his hands. 

“Don’t worry; we’re not here to talk business,” Mr. Riverez said. “Not tonight. Tonight is for you. And you,” he added to Harry, “and all of them,” he finished, waving his hands towards the girls and Harry and Louis’ crowd. “I just wanted two things: one, to congratulate you on an excellently-played game. I’ve been coming to your games for some time, now, and I am always impressed. Two, I wanted to set up a meeting with you and your coach, the three of us, to discuss options. That is the business part. Your coach has informed me that he is available at most times, now that the season has ended, and my own hours are flexible, as well. Is there any time that works best for you?” Louis thought for a moment, trying to remember his work schedule, and Mr. Riverez added, “We are allowed to pull you from classes, if you like.”

“No, sir, thank you,” Louis said, though it was tempting. “I’ve got finals coming up; I should probably…erm, I don’t work on Thursday – would Thursday after school be okay? Where would you like to meet?”

“Thursday works fantastically,” Mr. Riverez said, grabbing a pad from his pocket and a pen from inside his jacket. “Thursday at three-fifteen, give you some time, yes? We can meet in your coach’s office, for convenience. I’m here for good things, only; I do not want to inconvenience you.” Louis swallowed; he didn’t know what to say to that. Mr. Riverez put the pad up and held out his hand, smiling genuinely, as far as Louis could tell. “Mr. Leslie is also looking forward to meeting with you,” he informed Louis, shaking his hand. “I wanted to get a head start. It was nice meeting you, as well, Mr. Styles,” the man added, shaking Harry’s hand again. “You’ve started gaining some attention, as well, for a sophomore. Thank you for your time, Mr. Tomlinson; I’ll see you on Thursday.”

With that, Mr. Riverez left and Louis and Harry watched him go, the twins quietly content on their backs. Harry and Louis shared a look and simultaneously started screaming. 

\---

“You’re going to be _fine_ , babe,” Harry said from the passenger seat of Louis’ car. “Liam’s gonna pick me up and drop me off at home; just call me when you get out, okay?” Louis nodded, swallowing. He remembered feeling this exact emotion when he was a kid, after his mum would come have lunch with him at school. Whenever it was time to go, Louis would cry, wishing his mum could stay with him and go back to class. Not because he didn’t want to go, himself, but because he didn’t want to go without her, now that she was there. Louis was feeling that exact way, right now.

He was _dying_ to meet Mr. Riverez and see what he had to say. He just didn’t want to go in by himself, without Harry. 

“Hey,” Harry soothed, his voice calm and like a shot of heroin to an addict’s veins. Louis breathed out, and Harry brushed his hair from his eyes, looking at him tenderly. “You don’t have to decide today, Louis. He’s not going to say ‘now or never’. He _sought you out_. He watched you run around the field like an idiot and makeout with me left, right, and center, and he waved at your sisters and didn’t want to keep you from celebrating the big night, and he was willing to meet you at any time just so he could talk to you and Coach. He _wants_ you; he’s not going to rush you.”

Louis took a deep breath and nodded; Harry was right. He leaned in and kissed Harry softly. Harry was smiling against his lips.

“I love you,” Harry said once Louis pulled back. “Now. Let me out of this car, and get back to school. Have a nice chat. Call me when you get done, and then go hang out with your family. You can pick me up tonight, or something.”

Just then, that shiny Merc drove by, and Louis was distracted. “That neighbor of yours must be taking advantage of her husband,” he said, “because I swear, I see that car everywhere.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Stop changing the subject,” he said with a knowing smile. Before Louis could protest, he bopped Louis’ nose playfully and giggled, scooting away so Louis wouldn’t do it back. “Good luck, have fun. I love you.”

Louis nodded and leaned in for a chaste kiss, and then Harry reached for the door. “I love you, too,” Louis blurted, realizing he hadn’t said it back and was suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling. “I love you so much.”

Harry smiled, squeezed Louis’ hand and whispered, “Good luck,” and was out the door, headed for an appointment with Karen. Louis watched him go and then took off; he had eight minutes to get back to Coach’s office. He wouldn’t be late. 

\---

“Tommo, welcome,” Coach said when Louis knocked on the office door and peeked his head in. Mr. Riverez was sitting in a chair close to the window, and Louis came in when he stood up, offering a handshake. Louis shook his hand and then sat down, looking between the two men. 

“It is a pleasure to see you again,” Mr. Riverez said pleasantly. “I am sure you have been busy; thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”

“Cut the pleasantries, Dominique,” Coach said. “Tomlinson’s here because you wanted to talk business. Talk business.”

“ _Coach_ ,” Louis hissed, surprised. Coach wasn’t exactly a warm-and-fuzzies kind of guy, but Louis had never heard him disrespect someone, and he’d really appreciate it if the man didn’t smart off to a talent scout who _wanted him_.

“It is okay, Mr. Tomlinson,” Mr. Riverez smiled. “Your coach and I work with each other on a semi-regular basis. He knows my best salesman tricks.”

“Are you trying to sell me?” Louis asked cautiously. 

“Yes,” Mr. Riverez said bluntly. Before Louis’ heart could sink _all_ the way down to his stomach, he explained. “That is what a talent scout does, Mr. Tomlinson. I find students who are athletic leaders. I speak to their coaches; I meet with them and try to sell my college to them, and them to my college. I have looked at your records, Mr. Tomlinson. Are you aware that you have only missed twenty-three attempted goals in your entire high school career?”

“No, sir,” Louis answered honestly. He didn’t keep track of things like that; it would only distract him from his game. 

“Did you know that you are in the top twenty percent of your graduating class, as far as your GPA goes? Or that you have been recommended by three teachers for a leadership award? Mr. Tomlinson, I have taken your records – both as a student and as an athlete – and tried to sell you to U of North Florida. They are hopping on board. What I want to do now, before we talk about signing or even verbally committing, is sell my college to you.”

Louis nodded and adjusted his position, glancing at Coach, who had his fingers steepled together, surveying like a hawk. As funny as he looked in that moment, Louis was glad the man was there; Louis trusted Coach more than he trusted any man alive on god’s green earth. 

“The University of North Florida – UNF – was only established in 1972; it is a very young institution. It has grown rapidly and is located in a safe area of Jacksonville, Florida, and is on nearly every nationally ranked list, for a list of reasons. UNF has received the Carnegie award for Community Engagement – we do a great deal of community service – local, domestic, and abroad. Next Spring, we are planning a trip to Ghana and Zimbabwe for mission and aid for the majors in Religious Studies, Medicine, and Sociology. We have nearly seventeen thousand students, all of whom are given chances to conduct research alongside professors and other faculty, as well as branch outward. UNF has an excellent networking base to further improve the careers for students – over sixty percent of our graduates have a job through our network within six months of graduation. We are number four of the State University profile for academia; our overall GPA for all students last year was a 3.94 and our SAT scores were 1215 for math and reading. There are six residential halls, four of which will be immediately available to you as a freshman, and two of which will be available once you choose a major. You will move before you begin your junior year, and depending on your path, you may move your senior year, as well, because we try to keep senior students together with like-minded individuals. For example, if you prove yourself to be an academically excellent student and immerse yourself in any of our two-hundred-plus clubs or organization or volunteer with our school, you will be with others who exude those same qualities. 

 

“The UNF team plays fifteen to twenty games per season, and has been in the first, second, and third-round brackets for state university championships. Our team is decent, Mr. Tomlinson, but it could be better with a strong leader.”

Louis was overwhelmed. Mr. Riverez pulled a file that had been sitting on the desk and opened it up, pulling out a handful of brochures. He handed Louis the stack of papers, and Louis glanced down at them and saw they were all for UNF. Flipping through them, Louis saw brochures for campus life, different major and minor options, one that had the academic schedule, one with the athletic schedule, brochures for clubs and organizations, community groups, volunteer organizations and operations…on and on and on. 

“What is the team’s – and the school’s – tolerance for LGBT students?” Coach asked, suddenly. “I’m sure by now you are aware of, or have drawn your own conclusions, having seen Mr. Tomlinson’s…celebration.” Louis had the grace to blush when Coach glanced over at him, and suddenly, his heart was in his throat. He hadn’t even thought of that.

Mr. Riverez cleared his throat. “The University of North Florida has just created an LGBT “safe space” – they have their own club and house. The safety of LGBT students is important to us, as is the safety of _all_ students. There is an anonymous system allowing for complaints or charges to be filed without jeopardizing students’ safety, encompassing any and all crime or hostile actions, not just homophobic or – transphobic, I believe is the word, I apologize – ideals. As for the team, there is an openly homosexual player on the team. Through contract, I am not allowed to give any more information to his person, though I can say that, as far as the college is aware, he has not received any hostile treatment. I am sure that means he has probably received remarks, as not everyone is as open-minded as we may prefer. He is a decent player. I will be frank, Mr. Tomlinson. I believe you are a better player than him. He will not go on to play at a professional level, I do not believe – though how much of that is for talent and how much of that is for his open embracement of homosexuality, I am not sure. Unfortunately, it is my professional opinion that choosing to be openly homosexual could be harmful to your career – to anyone’s career – but I am not a gay man, and I do not know how it feels to need to hide my sexuality. I _do_ , from the deepest part of my heart, believe that you are talented enough to overcome hardships you may face for your sexuality. UNF _is_ notoriously gay-friendly, though we are still working on being transsexually-friendly. We are getting there. We are setting up the necessary organizations and support groups, as we want to be able to encourage, on good conscience, all students to come to our college.”

Louis nodded. He knew this much; coming out could be detrimental to any athlete’s career. Louis planned on not commenting, the way he did in high school, now. It had worked for quite a while; his father – 

“What about, erm, security?” Louis asked, biting his lip. 

“For LGBT students?” Mr. Riverez asked, and Louis waved him off. 

“No, erm, for everyone. Like, can people just come and go onto campus as they please?”

“Oh, no,” Mr. Riverez said, his face turning a bit upset. “It was that way until a few years ago; we had a domestic abuse case on our hands. The system a few years ago relied on waivers – at the beginning of the semester, you write down who you will allow to come visit you (for example, your mother and father), and if they can show photo ID at the gate, security would let them through. However, after a relationship turned south between a student and her boyfriend, her boyfriend came through security, since he was on the waived list, and got violent with her. Since then, only student and faculty are allowed freely through campus after showing photo ID at the gate. Visitors must be signed in personally by the student, and their visitors must wear a visitor’s pass at all times or they will be asked to leave the campus immediately.”

Louis nodded. At least his father wouldn’t be able to show up without Louis knowing. 

“Mr. Tomlinson, I would very much like to give you information on our scholarship offer; may I?” When Louis nodded, Mr. Riverez brought out another sheet of paper from his file. “These are the athletic scholarships we provide. Now, had you been in the top _ten_ of your class, we would have been able to give you at least a ninety percent ride. However, twenty percent is still impressive, and if you agree to come play for us and keep up at least a 3.75 GPA – that will allow for one B per semester – we would like to propose a scholarship that covers seventy-five percent of your tuition and room and board fees. It would include a meal plan, a place to live, access to any and all campus perks, and a place to learn and play your sport. That would mean you would only be responsible for just over nine thousand dollars per semester and books. You are, of course, eligible for other scholarships, both from UNF and otherwise; we accept thousands of scholarships and, of course, FAFSA and tuition assistance. Your stipulations are as follows: you will be at every practice and game, you will never go out wearing your uniform unless you are at a team event and with your team, you will maintain a 3.75 GPA, you will be an exemplary student for others to model themselves after, and you will volunteer at least one semester abroad.” Mr. Riverez gave the paper with the details of Louis’ offer to him, and then gathered his things. 

“I am not asking you to make a decision today. Please, go discuss matters with Mr. Leslie and, if you wish, any or all of the other scouts who are looking into your profile; there are quite a few. I truly wish you the best, even if that does not entail your future at UNF.” Mr. Riverez stood, so Louis did, too, and Coach, and Louis shook his hand. “Thank you very much for agreeing to meet me today, Mr. Tomlinson. I appreciate the opportunity. Here is my card,” he said, handing it to Louis. “Hold on to that, and if you think of any questions or would like to revisit the stipulations or terms of your offer, please do not hesitate to contact me. E-mail or my cell phone, written on the back for you, would be the best ways to contact me. Thank you for your time.”

After pleasantries, Mr. Riverez thanked Louis one last time and let himself, and Louis plopped back down into the chair. Coach chuckled at him. 

“You did great, Louis,” he said proudly. “He was drooling all over you; he wants you _bad_.”

A little dazed and pretty overwhelmed, Louis leafed through his brochures and pamphlets. “Is – seventy-five percent, is that really good?” He asked, and Coach chuckled. 

“It’s not as good as a full ride, is it?” He said, “But it really is incredible. UNF is over thirty-thousand per semester for out-of-state students; you’re looking at not even a third of the price, Tomlinson. You’re looking at a nationally-ranked state university education at a community college price.” Coach must have seen the emotions flitting through Louis’ face, because he smiled suddenly. “Go home, Tomlinson. Think on it. Mr. Leslie’s trying to get in touch with me; we can set up a meeting later next week, if you like. Give you a chance to think things through.”

Louis nodded, a little numb, and stood to leave. Before he made it out the door, Coach said, “I’m proud of you, son.”

\---

Louis sat on the bench in front of his locker for the better part of half an hour, thinking things through. He was a senior. He would never play for the Central Mustangs ever again. Louis had one choice: go play college ball, or give up his cleats forever. 

Obviously, not playing wasn’t even in the realm of possibilities. Louis wouldn’t get a scholarship for his grades; sure, they were decent, but they weren’t academically noteworthy. Nobody would do it for him. He had to make this work. He had money, sure, but would it be enough? Working just above minimum wage at the mechanic’s had been good for Louis, to teach him responsibility and accountability and to give him some experience and extra money he could spend, rather than dipping into the money Mark had left him. What would Harry think?

Eventually, Louis couldn’t even make sense of his thoughts, they were so wildly misplaced. His general feeling was _elated_ , but he was still overwhelmed, and he kept coming back to being a little kid at his mum and Mark’s wedding, all the people he didn’t know and relatives he didn’t speak to, really, people pinching his cheeks and asking to dance and cousins wanting to play tag underneath the table cloths and Mark expecting him to act proper at such a formal event…Louis had run to his mum, sat in her lap and smeared a bit of chocolate cake on the bodice of her princess-ish wedding gown, and she wasn’t even upset, though Mark frowned at Louis for it. 

Mum had held him tight and brushed his bowl-cut hair (honestly, what an awful hairstyle) away from his eyes, straightened his clip-on tie and kissed his cheeks over and over again, promising through whispers that Louis would always be her favorite boy. 

Grabbing his keys, Louis headed to the hospital, where his mum was working, feeling ten times better just at the _thought_ of going to his mum. Halfway to the hospital on the other side of town, Louis swore as he remembered he hadn’t called Harry yet. 

Dialing the number, Louis put the phone on speakerphone so he was hands-free. 

“ _Hey, how’d it go?_ ”

“It was awesome,” Louis said happily. “Mr. Riverez was really nice and honest, like really genuine. He offered a seventy-five percent scholarship.”

“ _Oh my gosh, Louis, that’s incredible_!” Harry said excitedly through the phone. “ _I’m so happy for you_!”

“Thanks,” Louis said, smiling to himself. “They – the security’s really tight there, too, and there’s actually apparently a gay guy on the team already. Coach asked him about, like, how gay-friendly the school and the team both are, and he was really candid and honest.”

“ _He better be ugly_ ,” Harry said, and Louis rolled his eyes. 

“Awe, don’t worry, babe,” he laughed. “Most college football players are hideous – broken noses, scars, all that. It’s not ‘til the big leagues, where they have money to fix themselves up again that they’re actually hot.”

Harry snorted, and Louis could hear him puttering around. “ _Are you back here already?_ ” He asked, and Louis frowned. 

“No,” he said. “I’m headed to see Mum and talk to her, see what she thinks before the girls get out of Youth Center.”

“ _Oh…someone just knocked on the door_ ,” Harry said, sounding confused. Louis didn’t answer, and Harry only paused for a second before he said, “ _Oh, yeah, I think it’s Robin. Hold on._ ”

Louis heard the door open and Harry’s breath hitched over the phone. “Harry?” There was a muffled voice on the other end of the line. “Who is it?” Louis asked curiously. When Harry didn’t answer, he started to grow worried. “Harry?”

There was a loud noise, followed be several more, like Harry’d dropped the phone, or something, and with one word, spoken just barely loud enough to hear, Harry made Louis’ blood run cold. 

“ _Dad_.”


	50. Part 49.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to throw it out here, there will only be one chapter left in this fic. Also, this gets graphic, a little, and is a violent chapter. Please be kind to yourselves; know your limits. If you think you might not be able to handle it, message me and I will absolutely fill you in without the triggering parts. Please, again, seriously. Be kind to yourselves. Love you all.

Harry growled in frustration when he didn’t get the right answer, checking in the back of his book at the odds. It was the third time he’d redone the problem, and Harry was about to rip his hair right out of his head.

Just in time, his phone rang, and Harry glanced at it. Had it been anyone else, he might have ignored it, but Louis’ face was blinking up at him, and Harry nearly knocked the phone across the room in his haste to answer it. “Hey, how’d it go?” He answered, feeling breathless excitement bubbling up in his stomach.

“ _It was awesome_ ,” Louis nearly shouted, though Harry could tell he was trying to tone the excitement down. He sounded so happy; Harry’s heart warmed. “ _Mr. Riverez was really nice and honest, like really genuine. He offered a seventy-five percent scholarship._ ”

Harry nearly choked on air. “Oh my gosh, Louis, that’s incredible!” Harry knew he was shouting. He didn’t really care. “I’m so happy for you!”

“ _Thanks_ ,” Louis murmured, his voice doing that little shy thing. Harry didn’t understand it, but Louis reacted so strongly to being told someone was proud of him. He got quiet and, despite him being such a naturally restless person, after a compliment of that nature, he sounded _content_. “ _They – the security’s really tight there, too, and there’s actually apparently a gay guy on the team already. Coach asked him about, like, how gay-friendly the school and the team both are, and he was really candid and honest._ ”

Harry scowled at the thought of another gay guy on the team. _Of course_ there was another gay guy on the team. “He better be ugly,” Harry said, trying (and probably failing) to make it sound like he was joking.

Just as Louis laughed, there was knock on the door downstairs, and Harry glanced out the window, but there weren’t any cars in his field of vision except the shiny black Mercedes the Watsons bought and the old, tan minivan the Andersons had, next door.

“ _Awe, don’t worry, babe. Most college football players are hideous – broken noses, scars, all that. It’s not ‘til the big leagues, where they have money to fix themselves up again that they’re actually hot._ ”

Harry snorted, more at the fact that Louis was still on the phone with him instead of just walking in than amused at what he said. “Are you back here already?”

Louis paused. “ _No_ ,” he said, like a question, and it made Harry frown. “ _I’m headed to see Mum and talk to her, see what she thinks before the girls get out of Youth Center,_ ” he explained.

“Oh. Someone just knocked on the door,” Harry said as he clomped down the stairs, thinking who it could be. Mum had a key, the boys wouldn’t knock…Robin? Harry looked to the door and saw through the clouded glass a rather large figure. “Oh, yeah, I think it’s just Robin,” he murmured. “Hold on.” Harry held the phone with one hand and opened the door with his other, a halfway-there smile on his face for Robin.

It wasn’t Robin.

Harry felt like he was choking as he looked into gray eyes. Louis asked Harry a question, but Harry didn’t know what it was.

“Hi, baby.”

“ _Who is it?_ ” Louis asked. When Harry didn’t answer, his voice grew worried. “ _Harry_?”

The phone fell out of Harry’s hands and clattered to the floor and the man stepped into the house, making Harry take a step back. “ _Dad_ ,” Harry said, his throat feeling constricted, like he couldn’t breathe.

\---

Desmond Styles stood in the door, towering over Harry. Harry wasn’t exactly tiny, not anymore, but Des would even tower over _Robin_.

“Dad,” Harry choked out again, taking a step back.

There was an echoey, tinny sound reverberating around the room, and Harry looked down to his phone, where it had landed when he dropped it. Des followed Harry’s eyes and slowly, he stepped on it, crunching it underneath his boot.

“No,” Harry tried to scream, but it crackled and smashed, and all Harry could hear was silence. “Please,” he whispered, and flinched when Des reached for him and grabbed his shoulders.

He didn’t hurt Harry, but Harry still squeezed his eyes shut. “I can’t have you calling the cops on me when I just got out,” Des said, and rubbed his thumb over Harry’s cheek. Harry held his breath and prayed he was just hallucinating, or something. He didn’t care; he’d take more pills for that if this would go away and never happen in real life. “I’ve missed you so much, Harry; you have no idea,” Des carried on.

Harry pressed his lips tight together, but a sob still made its way out, and Des heard it, his breath stalling for a second before he squatted and pulled Harry close, into a hug. “Daddy’s missed you too, baby,” he said, rubbing Harry’s back. “Hug me back, Harry. Hug me back.”

Harry felt tears slip down his face as he mechanically made his arms wind around Des’ neck, stiff in his arms where Des clearly wanted a warm embrace.

“I can’t believe how big you are,” he told Harry. “You’ve gotten so big; I can’t believe I missed you turning into this handsome young man.” Harry said nothing, still frozen and rigid, and he pulled back, trying to look Harry in the eye. “I’ve changed, Harry,” he said earnestly, and Harry could sense his frustration at being unable to catch Harry’s eye. “Look at me,” he said, and it sounded like he was begging. “Please, Harry. Please look at me in the eye.” When Harry didn’t do it, Des reached out and gripped Harry’s jaw, his giant hand engulfing the entirety of Harry’s jawline. “ _Look at me_!” He shouted.

“Please,” Harry whispered, crying in earnest. He was asking for so many things, but all he could say was ‘please’.

Des sucked in a breath and instantly let Harry go, backing up and taking his hands off of him. “Okay, I’m sorry,” he said, his voice measured. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I’ll – here, how about you take me to the living room, and we’ll talk? I just want to talk. I’m not – I’m not here to…to hurt you.” He seemed to force the words out, having a hard time saying – or even thinking – it. Harry didn’t have a choice; it was either do what he said, or get hurt.

As Harry turned around slowly, he started crying harder, his sobs wracking in his chest as he forced himself to walk down the entry hallway and into the living room. He stopped, then, and held his breath while Des walked past him to sit on the couch. Harry took the single chair, which was closer to the door, and even if his wobbly legs wouldn’t let him run as fast as he could, at least he’d have a headstart and wouldn’t get caught in the couch.

“I just want to talk to you,” Des said quietly, sounding hurt. Harry sat down on the very edge of the chair, staring at Des’ feet. “Are you afraid of me, still?”

After a beat, Harry sobbed as he nodded, daring to look up at his father’s face, which crumpled into pain.

“Oh, Harry,” he said, leaning forward, and Harry flinched, grabbing the arms of the chair, like they’d give him extra speed, or something. When he noticed Harry’s movement, he put his hands up, palms forward, like he was surrendering. “Okay,” he said. “Okay. I won’t move. I’m sorry. …I’m not here to hurt you.”

“Why – why are you here?” Harry forced himself to ask, and Des frowned.

“Don’t you want to see me?” He asked, and Harry sobbed, getting scared again. “No, don’t – don’t cry, I got your letter. I got – here,” he said, leaning to the side. Harry tensed up, scrambling backwards into the couch as he reached into his pocket, but Des only pulled out a piece of paper.

He leaned forward to smooth it out on the coffee table, and then pushed it towards Harry. Keeping his eyes on Des, Harry leaned forward and quickly snatched it up, having a hard time reading while keeping Des monitored.

“It’s your letter,” Des said, and Harry glanced at it and knew it was wrong. “That you answered my letter with.”

“ _Daddy, I’m so glad to hear from you! I would love to see you again. Of course, I might be a little scared; there was that one time you got a little scary with Mum, remember. Let me know as soon as you get out and we can meet up!_

Harry skimmed down to the bottom of the letter – it was kind of long, and flinched when he read the sign-off. _Always your sugar-pie, Harry_

Sugar-pie. Why did that make Harry squirm?

“This isn’t my letter,” he said, voice shaking. “I didn’t write this. It’s not – this isn’t me.”

Des frowned for a moment. “Of course it’s yours,” he said. “It came from your house. Look –” He gave Harry the envelope it came in, obviously as well-worn as the letter, which had a few holes in it from how many times it’d been opened and closed again. Right there on the letter was Harry’s name, his address, his zip code. There was a heart stamp in the corner of it, frilly and pink with a pale yellow background, and Harry stared at it, terrified.

“That’s not – that’s not mine,” he repeated, a sob coming from his throat. “I know it looks like – that’s not me; I didn’t write that. I didn’t – I told you to stay away, I told you to write me when you got a new place, I told you to – I told you about football, and I – and I told you about Mum and Robin, and I – I told you about – about – I told you about _Louis_ , and – I – and I said – I…I said…” Harry’s chest was heaving as he cried, more terrified in this moment as he’d ever been. He needed to stop talking; Des was going to get angry. “I told you I wasn’t ready to forgive you, that I didn’t want you here. I don’t _want_ you here. Someone’s given you a fake letter. That’s not mine.”

Harry watched, terrified, through his tears as Des’ face moved from hurt to confusion to denial…to anger. Des looked furious as he shot up and reached for his pocket.

“Please!” Harry shouted, scrambling up into his chair, but Des was only grabbing his phone.

“I’m _not going to hurt you_ ,” he shouted at Harry as he dialed. “Sit down!”

Harry trembled and cried even more, hysterical as Des held the phone up to his ear.

“Mr. Tomlinson, I need you in here, please,” he said, and then shut the phone.

Shocked out of his tears, Harry registered the name. “T-Tomlinson?” He said, and Des turned around, wild-eyed and nodded.

“Mark Tomlinson,” he said. “He’s a big-wig around here. Got in touch a few months ago; made me a deal. He said he’d get me out, as long as I agreed to come and work for him. …Guess he was really desperate for a guy like me. He says he needs me.” He looked almost proud of the fact.

Harry listened in horror, his tears subsiding as his he felt the blood freezing in his veins. He thought he was having a heart attack. Was he even going to live?

“Des- Da- you – you can’t work for him, he’s –”

“Awe, Harry,” said a voice behind him, and Harry shut his mouth instantly, squeezing his eyes closed and feeling his heart beating through his entire body. “Sullying my good name, really? After all, I am your boyfriend’s daddy. Wouldn’t want him to get in trouble, now, would we?”

“B-boyfriend?” Des asked, looking from Harry to Mark, and then back.

“Surely, Harry’s told you?” Mark asked, his voice terrifyingly smooth. “He likes boys. One, at least: my wife’s only baggage, our son, Louis.”

Des looked from Mark to Harry and back again, and his face screwed up until it turned dark red, but then he closed his eyes, shaking his head. “It’s – it’s okay,” Des said, like he was trying to convince himself more than anyone else. “I can deal with a – a gay son. I love him. I love Harry, Harry, I love you, and if you’re gay, that’s – that’s alright with me.”

“Of course, it is,” Mark answered, picking at his fingernails. “It’s your fault he thinks this way. You just couldn’t play with women, could you? Had to mess with the child.”

“ _No_ ,” Des protested, looking back and forth once more, his face seeming almost terrified. “It wasn’t _like that_ , I didn’t –”

“Oh, get over it, you coward,” Mark spat. “You’ve made your bed; now lie in it. Sit down and shut up.”

Des sat down, but he kept looking over at Harry imploringly, like puppy dog eyes from a convict could make Harry embrace him again.

With no prompting, Mark chuckled to himself. “I’m so brilliant,” he said. “Should I tell you why I’m brilliant? Because I had a problem. One tiny, seemingly insignificant, eighteen-year-old problem named Louis. Well – I say he was a small problem. He was a problem that came with a myriad of problems. Like a shotgun shell. Have you ever seen a bullet from a 12-gauge, Harry? No?” He asked, when Harry didn’t answer him. Harry could only stare at him in horror. “Chatty, aren’t you? Well, a shotgun bullet is a big case. When it’s ejected, shot from the gun, the casing breaks open and reveals a huge number of bullets that had been lying within. You can’t really use it for hunting, unless you’re going after something big, because it blasts whatever it hits into pieces. Completely unrecognizable.

“Anyway,” Mark sighed, walking around slowly, relaxed and confident. “I had Louis as my problem. And he had you. And you had…Des, over here. My new friend, your abuser and molester.” Both Harry and Des flinched from that, and Des opened his mouth to protest. Quick as a wink, Mark had a pistol out of the pocket in his blazer, pointed at Des’ face. Harry choked on a gasp, and tears sprang to his eyes. He was going to die; he hadn’t even told his mum he loved her today, or Louis. “Shut your mouth, Desmond,” Mark said threateningly. “Shut your mouth. I’ll explain everything, so long as you’re good.”

Mark lowered the gun, but he kept it in his hand, this time, and as he paced the living room floor, he tapped the barrel against the gun. Harry followed the movement with his eyes, more afraid of the gun than Des.

“See – I love Johannah. Oh, yes. Jay Tomlinson, the only woman I have ever loved. I didn’t even love my own mother; she was a tramp. Jay, though. I decided to divorce her, because I wasn’t giving her the love she deserves. Can you believe that? I love her. Do you know who she loves, Harry?” Harry looked up at Mark’s face in time to see the smirk when Mark realized Harry’d been watching the gun. “Jay loves _Louis_. Of course, she loves the girls; I’m not saying she’s a bad mother – but she loves Louis, and since he’s old enough, she values his opinion. And do you know what Louis’ opinion of me is, Harry? He doesn’t like me. So, when I asked Jay to try a second time at our marriage, she said no, because Louis wouldn’t be happy about it.

“And then, I thought – maybe I should speak to Louis! He’s a somewhat-intelligent young man; he enjoys the perks of my money. Maybe we’d never be friends, but I did love him, at one time, before he became unruly. And do you know what I found out? That he was gay. Oh, sure, I’d walked in on him with a boy once. I assumed it was experimentation, starting a bit earlier, in this generation. But it wasn’t. I had raised a man to be a full-fledged gay.

“I told him to stop. I wasn’t having my name being dragged through the dirt because my son liked cock up his arse! And he assured me, later, that he had. Now, when I met you, I didn’t think you were anything special, but Louis acted different around you, so I decided to have a look around. Imagine my surprise when I found out there was no ‘Liam Payne’ on the football team; there was only a ‘Harry Styles’. So, I looked you up. I saw the news articles; I got a background check performed on Desi, over here, and I started thinking.

“Do you know what I started thinking, Harry?” Mark seemed annoyed by Harry’s lack of interaction, so he simply shook his head no. “I started thinking of ways to get to Louis. Obviously, you were it. The only thing he cared more about than his little obsession with you was football and the girls. I couldn’t very well hurt the girls, and football is that boy’s only hope. God knows, he’s stupid as a box of rocks. No hope for that boy in the brain department, unfortunately. Jay made a mistake with that boyfriend of hers. No matter, now.

“So, I decided to play with you. I set up a warehouse where Des could send his letters to you, and you to him, in order to correspond with less interruption from the prison. You think the letter you got was the one Des wrote to you? Oh, you poor, stupid child.” Harry stared at Mark, eyebrows furrowed, and then looked over to Des, who looked as confused as Harry felt. “Des’ letter was so sweet, Harry, you should’ve read it. It was pathetic. I wanted to scare you; promises of love were hardly going to do that, were they? So I…edited the letter. Just a tad. Okay, I trashed Des’ letter completely – honestly. Pathetic. You’d be embarrassed just reading it. I may have blushed for him.

“And, as you’ve found out, Desi certainly didn’t get the letter you wrote. Desi got a letter exclaiming how much you wanted to forgive him and be in his life all the time again, because you’d missed having a dad growing up. So sweet. So cute.” Mark started laughing, tapping the gun’s barrel absent-mindedly against his thigh. “Isn’t that funny? He thought you wanted him back. It was hilarious; every time I visited, all he could talk about was how he was taking this course or learning those skills…he wanted to impress you, Harry. Isn’t that sweet? Desi took anger management classes for you.”

This couldn’t be happening. Things like this didn’t happen in real life; they just didn’t. Harry’s eyes darted around but kept returning to the gun in Mark’s hand, the image of his father sitting angrier and angrier, his face turning more red as time went on.

“Absolutely pathetic,” Mark said absently. “I wanted the letter to serve two purposes: I wanted to toy with you, because I wanted you gone. I figured if you cared for Louis in any capacity, you’d leave him, with your molester-father on the loose. And I also wanted to scare Louis away from you. Show him how much baggage you had, maybe he’d give up. He’s always been such a fickle boy; I don’t know how you’re interesting enough that he’s still with you, to be honest. …But you didn’t leave him. And he didn’t leave you. Ah, well. I don’t really mind Louis getting hurt in the process. Just like I don’t care if Desi gets hurt, or if you do. You’re all worthless. Desmond, you’re the worst. Did you really think Harry could ever want you back after what you did to him and his mother?”

“You bastard!” Des shouted all of a sudden, lurching up from the couch and charging at Mark.

“Dad!” Harry shouted when he saw Mark raise the pistol, and then his ears were ringing as Mark fired. Des dropped to the ground, and Harry moved to rush to him.

“Stay still, Harry,” Mark said coldly.

Tears running down his cheeks, Harry sobbed as he remained seated in his chair. “How could you?” He asked through his tears. “How could you kill someone, just because your step-son is gay?”

Mark stared at Harry and didn’t even answer, and Harry watched with horrified morbidity as his father gasped and bled onto the carpet, eyes wide and mouth gaping open, like he was surprised Mark shot him.

Mark took a sudden gasp and started moving around, pacing around the room and swearing, but it wasn’t until he heard the megaphone’s screech that Harry noticed the flashing blue and red, just barely passing through the glass of the door and flashing onto Des’ body.

“This is the Deputy Chief of Police speaking. Drop your weapon if you have one and come out with your hands in the air.”

“Fuck,” Mark swore, and Harry looked up in time to see Mark pointing the gun at him.

“Please,” Harry begged, tears starting over again, fresh and hot down his cheeks. “Please, don’t hurt me. Please, don’t hurt Louis. Please. Please, don’t do it.”

Mark stared at Harry, his hands and the gun shaking wildly, and cocked it. Harry ducked his head, his entire body trembling, and hoped like hell that Mark would change his mind.

When the gun went off, Harry flinched at the loud sound, screaming as he felt the blood splattering onto him. The door burst open and Harry kept screaming, eyes shut died and hands covering his head, which was tucked down between his knees.

“Son, are you alright? Son, do you have any weapons?” Finally registering what was being said, Harry shook his head, sobs wracking his body over and over again. Arms wound around him, then, helping to lift him up, and Harry was carried out of the house. Harry lifted his head as he was carried down the entryway and saw a group of men looking through the living room, probably checking for signs of life.

Hysteria bubbled up over Harry again he nearly fainted, getting dizzy enough that spots swam in his vision. He was set down against an ambulance and immediately, paramedics were on him. Harry sat numbly while people took his temperature and blood pressure and pricked his finger for blood sugar and checked his pulse, as well as signs for injury.

“Let me see him! Let me – I’m his boyfriend; you have to let me see him!”

Harry heard the words vaguely and mumbled, “Louis.”

“What was that, dear?” A paramedic asked, and Harry said Louis’ name again. “That boy? Do you want to see him?”

Tears kept falling, right down his face as he nodded and his lip trembled, and the paramedic must have said something, because Louis was in his face a moment later, trying to push at the paramedics to get to Harry better. Harry sobbed when he felt Louis’ shaking hands brushing at his hair, heard Louis’ own shaking voice.

“Harry? Harry, oh my god, baby, I’m so sorry. Harry, I should’ve come straight over, please talk to me. What happened? Did he hurt you? Did Des hurt you again? I heard – I was so scared, I heard the gunshots; what happened? Baby, okay, you don’t have to give me answers. Just – just tell me…are you okay?” Louis voice broke at the last word, and Harry looked up to see his face, to not, to tell him that _yes_ , he thought he was okay…but he saw Des being hauled out on a stretcher.

Numbly, Harry stood and slowly stumbled past Louis, the blanket someone had put over him falling off as he walked toward the stretcher. The paramedics paused as they saw Harry approaching, and Harry moved the sheet draping over him to look at his face.

Des stared up blankly at him, his dead face impassive and still, somehow, imploring Harry to forgive him.

“You’re so stupid,” Harry hissed at him through tears. “You’re so _fucking_ stupid. You thought he wouldn’t shoot you? You thought I could _forgive_ you? _Love you_? You’re so _fucking stupid, Desmond Styles!_ ”

All of a sudden, hands were wrapping around Harry from behind, and Harry fought against Louis’ hold, trying to chase after Des’ body when the paramedics started wheeling him away. “Harry, stop,” Louis said, strained, and Harry screamed through his tears at Louis to let him go.

“I have to – I have to tell him, I _hate him_! I hate him, Louis, I have to – he’s so _stupid_ , he’s so…he’s…he’s – _Dad_ …” The fight drained out of him as quickly as it built up at seeing Des’ body, and Harry let the strength leave him, too, relying heavily on Louis to hold him up. Harry cried and cried as he watched Des’ face being covered again, realizing his father was dead.

Harry wasn’t sure how long it was until he heard his mother’s voice, hysterical and terrifying, and later, Robin came, his car screeching to a halt as he shouted Harry’s name, sounding worried, too. By the time Liam showed, probably having seen the commotion from his house, paramedics insisted on taking Harry to the ER, and then the police wanted to question him, like they were doing to Louis. Harry’s attention tuned in and out, unable to focus, but he heard enough to be overwhelmed all over again, so eventually he stopped listening.

“…raced back as soon as I heard him say it, called you guys and told them someone had broken into my house…cops were there right when I pulled up…held me back; wouldn’t let me go in…heard the gunshots and they realized it might be a hostage situation, I guess… next thing I know…You, too, officer.”

Anne sat next to Harry in the ambulance, cooing over him and crying and apologizing, and Harry was thoroughly checked in a hospital room and blood was taken off his skin with a few q-tips until he was finally allowed to shower. Harry sat in his hospital gown, shivering from the cold and wet until Louis knocked softly on the door, peeking around it and holding up athletic clothes he must have left in his car. Just the sight of Louis made Harry burst into tears again and reach out for him, and Louis was at his side in a heartbeat, Harry’s mum on the other, and together they calmed him down.

“I’ll never feel safe again,” Harry whispered eventually, and promptly started crying again, too upset to even be embarrassed by all the tears of today. Louis kissed his temple.

“He’ll never get you again, neither of them. Nobody will ever hurt you like that again, sweetheart. Never again, okay? Listen to me – listen.” Louis pulled back to brush hair away from Harry’s face, and Harry struggled to focus on his face, too, rather than just his voice. “I love you. I love you so f- so much, and I am here for you. I’m not going anywhere, not any time soon, and I’m going to be with you as much as I can to make you feel safe. I’m going to make you feel safe again, okay? Me and your mum, and the boys, we’re all going to make you feel safe.”


	51. Part 50.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THERE IS AN AMBIGUOUS ENDING. Sad things happen, there will be tears. If you don't want that, wait until I post a timestamp (and I'm not sure when that will be yet)! Regardless of what you decide, thank you SO MUCH for getting this far, good grief, I'm very honored and amazed by you.:) -Kotabear24 xxxx

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the VERY END. The last chapter of the fic. I have worked on this for two years, now, slowly but surely putting out nearly 230,000 words in this 'verse, and this is absolutely my baby, and I'm so attached to these characters.  
>  **Reminder that there will be timestamps! I'm open to ideas for them, as well.**  
>  Huge thanks to Dani, for being the very first person to support 'Touch' and one of the most important people in the world to me - you are simultaneously my Louis _and_ my Harry, and you always have been. Thanks to Annelies, who has been along for the ride for _ever_. Thanks to all the wonderful people I've met from this fic (all my fics, but this one especially), and thank you for all your support in not only writing 'Touch', but everything else that has happened in my life in the past two years. This fic means a lot to me - not only is it my biggest and most in-depth for characterization and plot, 'Touch' was my escape when my life got very, very difficult these past few years, so no matter what happens, this fic will always be very, very special to me, and you guys who read it will be, as well. You guys are everything.
> 
> So, here it is - it's emotional for a number of reasons. I hope you like it. If not, I'm moving to Finland and going into hiding. 
> 
> Love you all!

“Louis. … _Lou_. Louis.”

Louis blinked awake with a crick in his neck and a bar across his back digging in so badly it’d probably already bruised his skin. However, the second he registered that Harry was awake and sitting up in Louis’ bed, Louis straightened up, hands rubbing at his eyes and reminding his body not to rush at him. “Hey, you’re awake,” he said dumbly.

“How long have I been asleep?” Harry asked quietly, folding his legs and clutching one of Louis’ pillows tall-ways, so that one end was in his lap and the other was propping his chin up.

Louis glanced at the clock on his desk. “About six hours, I think,” he said, and promptly was unsure what else to say. On the other side of the room, closer to the TV, Anne mumbled in her sleep, and Louis bit his lip. “I promised to wake her up,” he said, already shifting, but Harry’s eyes widened and he shook his head, so Louis froze. “What’s wrong?” He asked, gently. 

“I – want to talk to you,” he said, his voice barely there.

“Of course, what’s up?” Louis asked, a little surprised that Harry wanted to talk about last night already. 

Once he was cleared from shock and was given a thorough check-up, Harry had been cleared to leave the hospital. It had taken hours for all of it to happen, though, so it was already kind of late, and the doctors had agreed that it would be best if Harry could stay somewhere familiar, and Anne had immediately looked to Louis, who, of course, took them home without a second thought. Louis had given his mum a run-down: Harry’s dad, who had abused Harry and left him a little gun-shy, had returned and somehow found Harry. What had happened, exactly, Louis still wasn’t sure; he hadn’t been allowed to be present during the questioning in the hospital, but Jay had only touched Harry’s shoulder, given Anne a tight hug and a kiss to the temple, and gathered the girls and taken them to her cousin’s house, a few towns away. Anne had refused to sleep in a different room, and Harry had hesitated a second too long when Louis asked if he wanted to sleep on his own, so they’d both taken spots in Louis’ big bedroom. 

“Could you –” Harry made an aborted _come closer_ gesture, looking over at his mum, and when Louis was on the floor in front of the bed, Harry slowly slid down off the bed and onto the floor, in front of him and close enough to touch his knees with Harry’s. “I love you,” Harry said slowly, and Louis’ heart fluttered in some kind of strange mix of emotions. “I love you, I love you _so much_.” 

“I love you, too,” he said with a smile on his face. “Hey – hey, babe, why are you crying?” As soon as he’d told Harry he still loved him, Harry had started crying, hands pressed against his mouth to keep from making too much sound. 

“You can’t love me,” Harry said, shaking his head. “I’m so – I’m so, so – I’m such an awful person; you won’t love me anymore.”

“Harry!” Louis exclaimed as quietly as he could, and pulled Harry’s hands away from his face, rubbing the backs of them with his thumbs. “Sweetheart, I love you just as much as I did yesterday, as much as I did six weeks ago, as much as I did six months ago. Something terrible happened to you tonight, but that doesn’t make me love you any less at all.” Harry shuddered as he shook his head again, but he squeezed Louis’ hands, so at least Louis knew he was being heard. “Keep listening to me, baby,” Louis said slowly. “You are the best person I have ever known, in my entire life – and I know Phoebe Tomlinson,” he said to make Harry laugh, but he only frowned deeper. “Nothing that happened tonight will make me love you any less.”

“Two people are dead because of me,” Harry whispered, looking at Louis’ hands, which loosened their hold at the information, but tightened again. _Two?_ “I have blood on my skin,” he added, and then shook his head. “Had. I had blood on my skin. I cleaned it off.”

Louis desperately wanted to know more about what happened – call it morbid curiosity, call it protective instincts, call it whatever, but he still wanted to know – but he didn’t press. “It’s not your fault, Harry,” he said. “Nobody is hurt because of _you_ ; people were hurt because of evil. You are not an evil person.”

“We have to break up,” Harry said, ignoring him, and Louis felt his heart drop to his stomach. “You can’t date me, you can’t be with me anymore.”

“No,” Louis said, and Harry’s head snapped up to look at him, shocked and confused. Louis never refused Harry things. “You are not breaking up with me because you think you’re a bad person,” he maintained, and kissed Harry’s hands. “Harry, we’ll get through this! We get through everything; we can get through this. I’m not going to pressure you for information, or to up medication, or even to up appointments with Karen, if you don’t want –”

“Mark is dead,” Harry interrupted, his face blank, and Louis froze. 

“What?” He asked, and Harry licked his lips and swallowed, shaking his head like he refused to say it again. “Mark?” Louis asked, and Harry’s chin trembled. “My dad? My step-dad?” Harry nodded, and Louis felt winded. “He was there? With you and Des?”

“I want to break up,” Harry repeated himself, and Louis let go of Harry’s hands because – wow, that made things different. Of _course_ , Harry didn’t want to date Louis. He was connected to someone who’d – probably, obviously, definitely, if Louis knew Mark at all – done something awful to Harry on such a traumatic night. Who would tie themselves to a daily reminder of that night? “I have to break up with you,” Louis heard Harry say, and Louis grit his teeth and swallowed. He would not cry. 

“Okay,” he said tightly. “I understand.” He stood up, then, and strode to the door of his bedroom. “I – you’re welcome to stay here, as long as you need. I mean it. Just because we’re – I will always be someone you can count on, if you want me to be.” _I still love you_ , he wanted to say, but he didn’t. “I’m so glad you’re safe, Harry.” With that, Louis walked out the door to his own room, leaving his ex-boyfriend, the love of his life and most important person to him, on the other side of it.

\---

As it turned out, Louis’ mum had been trying to call him that night. She’d been called from the hospital and they broke the news of her husband’s death over the phone.

Harry only stayed at Louis’ house for about a week. He skipped one day of school, though, and seemed terrified at the thought of being alone, since his mum had to go in to take a leave of absence in order to get off work for a few days, so Louis texted the boys and told them Harry wouldn’t be going to classes. Every single one of them skipped at least half a day. Louis went and picked up pizza to share, and they spent a relatively-quiet day together. Anne came back to a giant living room full of six teenaged boys, and she’d gotten a little emotional for a moment before she shook hands with Zayn and Stan. Louis noticed the way her eyes kept flickering between Harry and him, though, as they were on opposite ends of the couch. He knew the boys were wondering, as well, but everyone seemed to pick up on the fact that it wasn’t something they should bring up. 

Harry decided to go to school the next day, though, and Louis took him. The ride hadn’t really been an awkward one, since Harry still talked to Louis, at least, even if it was stilted and light, which gave Louis hope that they could still at least be friends, maybe, but it made his heart ache with a ferocity he hadn’t known he’d be able to stomach. It hurt so bad he got dizzy from it, and it kept hurting all day, through reviewing for finals. 

So it went for the next three days.

On the fourth day, when Harry and Louis came back to Louis’, Anne met them at the door, slightly nervous and slightly excited. “Good, you’re back,” she said, wringing her hands a little nervously. “I think I found a house for us.”

“Where?” Harry said, a little sadly. Louis wanted to comfort him, but didn’t know how. Obviously, Harry and Anne wanted to move – _needed_ to move out of that house – but even though Harry would never be able to sleep in his old house again, probably, Louis could tell he was sad to leave it. That house had been his and Anne’s refuge, ever since they’d moved after the incident with his father. 

“It’s – it’s closer to Grandma’s old neighborhood,” she hedged. “But still close enough for you to stay at your school, and you – you’ll be able to drive yourself, you know, once we get you a license… It’s maybe a thirty-minute drive…”

Harry gave his mum a hug, and Anne instantly quieted, gripping Harry tightly. “We’ll get through it, Mum,” he said, quiet enough that Louis wasn’t sure if he was supposed to hear. “We’re gonna – everything will be alright; we’ll be fine.” He pulled back, then, and smiled. It wasn’t a real smile – it was forced and even still, it was sad – but Harry was trying. “Want to show me it?”

“Of course,” Anne said, and looked at Louis, about to invite him on instinct, but then she froze and looked back at Harry for a moment, unsure. 

Louis cleared his throat. “That’s great, Anne,” he said, and gave her a side-armed hug. “I’m, erm. Obviously, I’ll help with the move-in; wouldn’t want Harry to drop anything heavy on his toes. He’ll be needing those for summer football practices.” It wasn’t funny, it wasn’t cute, it wasn’t witty. It was the only thing Louis could come up with. 

“Thanks,” Harry said, though he was smiling a little fragilely. “Do you – erm, do you want to come see the house with us?” He asked, looking at his mum and then back at Louis.

 _Of course I do. I want to make sure it’s safe._ Louis coughed and smiled. “Er, sure, yeah, if you don’t mind,” he said instead, and Harry grinned, so they all walked to Anne’s car, and Harry faltered when Louis opened the passenger door for him on instinct. He got in, though, and the drive really wasn’t too long of a drive, not with Louis able to listen to Harry and Anne trying to keep each other’s spirits up, being silly and candid with each other in a way Louis rarely got to see between them.

The house was a little bigger than their old one, but still pretty plain on the outside. Anne had explained that the realtor had left it unlocked, once Anne had told her that Harry would want to see it after he got out of school, so Harry and Anne walked right on in. Louis stayed outside in the front yard for a moment, surveying it and the neighborhood carefully and a little sadly. 

The front yard had a big (and clearly very old) tree that had grown a little strangely, swooping down low enough to climb up and sit on the branches. Louis could see him and Harry sitting on one particularly-broad branch, next to each other in the summer eating ice cream and stealing kisses as they enjoyed the summer breeze. The next instant, Louis saw him and Harry chasing each other around the side yard, where the grass was soft and the ground was level, the privacy fence made of tall wooden slates which would serve as a nice goal for practicing half-field football. A car passed by on the road, and Louis looked over and saw a park a few houses down, with a few little kids climbing on the monkey bars and sitting on a merry-go-round that looked a little rusty at its hinges even from where Louis was standing and creaked when it spun, and Louis saw himself pushing Harry around on it, both of them laughing as their hair flew sideways, or laying down on top of Harry in the covered slide in the heat of the day, stealing kisses and pretending that Louis would be around forever.

“Wanna come inside?”

Louis turned around and saw Harry, lingering in the doorway after clearly running around the house like a madman, checking it out for himself. Louis composed himself instantly, not wanting Harry to know what he’d just been thinking about. “Sure,” he said, and Harry was nice enough not to notice the wobble in his voice. 

Just inside, there was a tiny area of tile, and on Louis’ left, there was a small closet he could already tell would be used for shoes and coats. There wasn’t a hallway, like his old house, but the tile floor ended abruptly into a wooden floored-living room, a little bigger than their old one. On the far wall, one side had a back door and the other had a small bar-type of area, with ugly greenish granite countertops and a small sink and a few cabinets up top, and he knew Niall would wheedle Anne into letting that area be their snack area, for nights over and such. 

Harry led Louis off to his left, entering a small hallway with two bedrooms and a bathroom between them. On the right of the hallway, Harry opened the door. “Mum said this’ll be my bedroom,” he said, and Louis looked in and saw an empty bedroom with more of the wooden floor. He couldn’t tell if it was smaller or bigger, with its absence of furniture. Harry opened the door to the bathroom, which was long and narrow, and had two sinks and lots of cabinet space below, and then the second bedroom on the bathroom’s other side. “This’ll be, like, a guest room,” he said, biting his lip, and Louis smiled a bit as he looked in and saw Harry’s grandma – who he’d only seen in pictures – staying there, or maybe Niall for a week or two, or something. 

“This is kind of a cool layout,” Louis said, once it was obvious that Harry was waiting for Louis to say something. Harry smiled. 

“Yeah,” he said, and then led Louis past the living room again. “And then, this’ll be Mum’s room,” he said, and opened a door just past the living room but before they reached the kitchen. Anne was in the room already, looking around, and she smiled when she saw Harry and Louis. “Her bathroom’s around the corner; it’s attached.” They left Anne’s room, and Louis was taken into the kitchen, which was a _tiny_ bit smaller than Harry’s old one, but not by much, and the dining area was a little bigger. “And, obviously, this is my second bedroom,” Harry joked a little, and Louis smiled. 

“I can already smell the food you’re gonna cook, here,” he admitted, though he kept to himself the vision he had of himself sitting on the counter between the fridge and the stove, waiting with his mouth open as Harry fed him bits of the food he was cooking, wrapping his legs around Harry’s hips and drawing him in for kisses in exchange. 

It made Harry happy, either way, and Louis knew he was right to keep his thoughts to himself. This awkward peace between them wouldn’t be able to hold much longer, though, he knew. Something would have to give, because every second Louis spent with Harry hurt Louis more and more. 

\---

Harry and Anne started moving in not even two days later. As soon as the realty papers were signed, Anne got Robin to take off a day or two of work and start helping them to move while Harry was in school, and once school was out, Harry, Louis, Stan, Zayn, Liam, and Niall came over to help. Anne, Liam, and Niall stayed with Harry at the new house, unpacking things and generally discussing arrangement of furniture and things, while Louis, Robin, Stan, and Zayn braved the old house, which had finally been cleared by the investigators. 

“Get ready,” Robin warned them as they all walked into the house, and as soon as they were halfway down the entry hall, Louis knew why.

On the carpet in the living room, next to the couch, was a massive bloodstain, dark and dirty-looking against the tan color of the carpet. A few feet over, there was another one, though it was more spread out, and less on the carpet as it was on the wall and tops of furniture – even some on the TV screen. 

“Holy shit,” Stan said lowly, like he might throw up. Louis couldn’t blame him.

“Let’s just get Harry’s stuff first,” Robin decided, but Louis wasn’t sure how Harry would feel about that. 

“No, go ahead and grab stuff from the kitchen,” he said quickly. “I’ll – Harry’s really…private, about his stuff. I’ll get it.” He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked over to see Zayn looking at him, eyes a little soft. 

“Want me to go with you?” He asked, and _of course_ Zayn had figured out that they’d broken up. Not only was he perceptive as hell, he was also dating Niall, who probably knew, by now. 

Louis swallowed, but he only had to think about it for a second. “No, thanks,” he said, and Zayn let it go, heading to the kitchen and snagging a few folded-down cardboard boxes as he went. 

Louis stared at the bloodstains for a second, trying to see in his mind what had happened. The explosive stains must have been Mark, Louis knew, because he’d seen Des’ dead body – well, his dead upper body, at least – and he’d been in one piece. Bloodstains like this didn’t go with a body in one piece; they just couldn’t. 

Harry had said that two people were dead because of him. What had that meant? As Louis stared at what had been a crime scene and was now simply the scene of an untold tragedy – maybe – he couldn’t help wondering, his mind running through different possible scenarios. 

Had Harry shot one or both of them? Louis disregarded it immediately. As far as Louis knew, Anne didn’t even keep a gun in the house, and even _if_ she did, and even _if_ Harry knew about it, Louis couldn’t see him shooting an actual person, even in self-defense. 

So, had Des been the shooter? Maybe, but why would he have shot himself, then? Why not try to get away? Or – had _Mark_ been the one…surely not? Over Louis not breaking up with Harry? Was Des even related, then, or was it some freaky coincidence?

Louis growled in frustration as he climbed up the stairs with boxes in his hands, and started packing Harry’s things up with tenderness that hurt his heart even more. 

\---

Harry was settled into his new house, now, and Liam was a little closer to the new house than Louis was, so he took Harry to school instead of Louis, and took him home after, as well. Louis still hung out with the boys every weekend, and saw Stan all the time, and Zayn, whenever he wasn’t with Niall. But Louis was lucky when they were dating to see Harry during a purposefully-scheduled bathroom break or a library meet-up during free time. In the two weeks since they’d broken up, Louis hadn’t seen Harry but three times. It would’ve been do-able if he got to talk to Harry a lot otherwise, but they were both studying for finals, and Harry was in therapy most of the time he wasn’t at school – he’d even taken off from work, down to only two or three days a week – so there wasn’t much chance. Well, that, and Louis had tried to text Harry so many times, but he never knew what to say. 

Was it stupid to feel a lump in your throat when you thought about your ex-boyfriend and best friend in the world not riding to school with you anymore?

Today, though, Harry was in the parking lot when Louis got out of school, standing cautiously next to Louis’ car, like he wasn’t sure if Louis wanted him there. Louis wanted to fall to his knees and wrap his arms around Harry’s waist and cry out, _I want you to be everywhere I am forever; what’s happened to you doesn’t make me love you any less in any way._ He didn’t, though. Harry broke up with Louis because he couldn’t be connected to that night, and even though Louis had poured over the news (since it had _finally_ been released) but he still didn’t understand what had truly happened, Louis had to respect that and give him space wherever Harry needed it. 

Against the car, though, Harry’s eyes were red-rimmed and he was biting his lip as he looked around, and when he found Louis, he let out a sob and hurried to him. Louis, on instinct, wrapped his arms around Harry once they reached each other and pushed hair away from his face. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong? What happened?” Harry didn’t answer, really, only shook his head, and people were beginning to stare – that was probably the problem; Harry hated people looking at him like that. “Let’s get to the car, okay? Where do you want to go?”

Harry shifted to walk but kept himself tucked under Louis’ arm – now that Harry was a bit taller than Louis, it was actually a little uncomfortable, Louis noted with annoyance and surprise. Just as Louis opened the door for Harry, the younger boy grabbed his shirt and looked at him, biting his own lip. “Can we – are we still allowed to go to the Jungle, even if we’re not…?”

Louis swallowed tightly, and then brushed a curl from Harry’s face. “Of course, we can,” he said softly, driving the stake deeper into his chest with every word. “We’ll go there. Text your mum, yeah? Don’t want her to worry.”

Harry nodded and got into the car as Louis walked around to his own side, and Louis turned on some random music to distract Harry as he texted his mum. They made it to the Jungle in relatively quick time, and as they walked through the dark first level, Harry snagged the tail of Louis’ shirt with a finger to keep them together. It was a stark difference to the way they usually held hands, and it made Louis take a ragged breath as he climbed the stairs. He hoped Harry would just think it was from the physical exertion, but he probably knew better than that. 

Harry was quiet all the way up to the Jungle, and he kicked off his shoes and went straight to the bed while Louis went a little slower, and when he climbed up, he rested back on the vines instead of crawling up close to Harry, like they would have before. 

Everything they did now hurt.

“What happened today?” Louis asked, when it became clear that Harry wasn’t really sure how to start.

Harry picked at the blanket and plucked at it, avoiding Louis’ eye like so many times before. “Some of the kids in geography asked me what happened,” he said, and frowned for a second. “I didn’t know what to say.”

Louis felt his nostrils flare, just a bit. “You should’ve told them to fuck off,” he said, and couldn’t help the fond smile when Harry’s eyes widened for a second at Louis’ swearing. “Hey,” he said, and Harry looked up at him, “you don’t owe them any explanation. At all. You don’t have to tell them anything; it’s none of their damned business.”

Harry nodded slowly, and then took a stuttering breath, like he was trying not to work himself up. “I didn’t get really upset, then, though. Like, I was upset, but not – like I didn’t cry, or anything. But I was just so…how can I – I can’t really…walk around school, knowing that I, like.” Harry’s lip quivered, and Louis scooted closer, break-up be damned, and the rocking bed made it a little hard not to end up face-down in Harry’s lap, but he made it. “Two people are dead, Lou. Two people who should’ve never come in contact with each other, and they did, because –” Harry cut himself off, then, and shook his head. “I just got a little, you know. Worked up, or whatever, and then I…I just wanted to see you. All day, I wanted to see you. And then I thought – ‘well, you can’t, because you’re broken-up, now, so you just have to deal with it’ – and it was… That’s when I started crying.”

Louis wanted to say so many things. _Why did you break up with me, then_ , and _You will always be able to come to me, whether we’re together or apart_ , and _I was miserable all day, too_. Instead, he swallowed and rubbed Harry’s back. “You’ll always be welcome to come see me, Harry. I mean, no matter what we are to each other, there will never be a world that I don’t care about you in. No matter what – whatever happened the other night, you know… You can always come to me. With anything – anything big, or small, or, like, mundane or important or for anything. I don’t care what you need; I’ll do my best to give it, and to be that for you, always. You’re – you’re what’s important to me.”

Harry shook his head and stuck a finger in the corner of his eye. “But I shouldn’t be,” he said in a sad voice. “I – we’re not together, like that; I shouldn’t be important to you anymore.”

That _hurt_. Stung, Louis lost control, just a bit. “Don’t you love me at all?” He demanded. “Didn’t you care for me, even one little bit? I know shit got out of control, and I totally get that you don’t want to be connected to that, or whatever – like, I get that you need space and to not be reminded of it every single time you fucking look at me, but how can you look me in the eye and tell me that we shouldn’t matter to each other after, like, a day and a half of being broken up? After _months_ together? Don’t I mean _anything_? Don’t I matter at least a little, to you?” And for once, tears were flowing freely down his face, and Louis wanted nothing more than to get up and get off the bed, and leave town, go to college and never come back. As soon as he thought about it, though, Louis knew he’d never be able to do it. He needed to know Harry was safe, no matter what happened. 

“Of _course_ , I love you, Louis!” Harry said, voice so loud he was nearly shouting. He looked like Louis had just slapped him across the face. “Of course, I do! But do you really think I can just sit here with you, look you in the eye, and know that your dad is _dead_ , and he’s – I was the last person to see him alive, and I – how can I _not_ blame myself? It’s nothing to do with me not loving you, Louis; it’s because I love you – I love you so much, and it’s –” Harry took a deep breath. When he breathed out, Louis was still watching him, and he visibly braced himself before he said, “Lou, you’re going to college. I’m gonna be stuck here for at least two more years, having medication and therapy shoved down my throat at – at alarming rates. Go play football,” he urged. “Go to college. Go have fun. You can’t – you can’t do that if you’re stuck in a dorm room, waiting on a Skype call from the kid who got your dad killed.”

Louis shook his head ferociously. “Don’t you ever say those things about yourself again, Harry,” he said angrily, protecting Harry from himself. “If this is some – some morality thing, or whatever, you can cut it right out, because I don’t know what happened at your house, but if Mark was threatening you in any way – it’s callous and evil and cold to say it, but – I’m glad he’s dead. I don’t – _fuck_ , Harry I just wish I could _understand_ –”

“You don’t,” Harry interrupted, dropping his gaze to his lap. Louis didn’t say anything, just waited it out. Finally, Harry looked up at Louis again, and he looked _angry_. “Do you know what I think about, every time I see a cop car patrolling, or parked somewhere for a speed-trap on the side of the road?” Louis shook his head. “I think of cops bursting into my house and asking me if I have a weapon, and then pulling me out of the house, where two dead bodies were laying on my floor. And – and every time I see an ambulance? I see my dad, with a hole in his chest. Hospital? Being checked out for injuries. Hear a car backfiring, or a sonic boom from a plane? No big deal, it’s just the gunshot that killed my father, or yours. I don’t – when I think of the word ‘dad’, I think of guns and blood and being scared and cold and hurt. When I think of paramedics, I think of having blood q-tipped off of me for evidence. When I think of blood, I relive watching my father bleeding out, dying right in front of me, and I’m stuck in the chair because if I move, I’ll be killed next. But – Louis,” Harry said, and finally – finally – his voice broke, and he leaned forward a bit. “Louis, when I think of you, _all I feel_ is comfort and love and safety. I feel understood, I feel strong, I feel – I feel like I’m not some pity case or some freak-show lab animal people want to poke for more information. And I hate – because every time I think those things, all I can think is ‘that’s why two men are dead – because you feel that way’. Do you – do you even know what that _does_ to a person? Can you imagine – imagine, like, every time you breathe, someone dies. Because you took a breath. Wouldn’t you be scared to breathe, even though you needed it to live?”

Louis wiped furiously at his cheeks, even though more was coming. “I don’t – I don’t know what to say, Harry,” he admitted. “I don’t know how to fix it, I don’t know how to make that go away, or make it better, baby. I don’t – I’m so sorry.” 

Harry shook his head, but he was a little blurry in Louis’ vision. He felt it, though, when Harry grabbed his hand suddenly, holding tight. The touch felt like a shock, and Louis’ other hand went automatically to the pendant around his neck. 

“Lou, that’s the – I don’t need you to fix it for me,” Harry said, his voice wobbly but there. “I’ve done it – I was… I was so afraid that I wouldn’t be able to make it without going crazy, and that I definitely depended on you way too much, but I – it’s been weeks – actual weeks – and I’m still alive. I’m still here, and I – things aren’t _okay_ , of course, but they’re – they’ll get there, is what I mean. And I did it – I did it without, like…without you at my side all the time like you used to be!” Harry looked so proud – and Louis _was_ proud of him, was the thing. He just was also hurt. 

But Harry saw the hurt on Louis’ face and squeezed his hand. “No, that’s not what I meant,” he said wildly, and Louis wasn’t sure what Harry thought. “I meant – I meant, like, I was afraid I couldn’t do it without you, like I’d be depending on you way too much, or keeping you down, or something. But I didn’t!”

“I’m really, really happy for you, Harry,” Louis said, and even though it hurt, it was the god’s honest truth. Harry had to know that.

The proud smile on Harry’s face widened for a moment, and then faded. “Thanks,” he said quietly. They sat in quiet for a few minutes until Harry said, “I miss you so much. You’re not even gone yet, but I miss you all the time.”

Louis was about to lose it again. “I miss you, too,” he said. “I – I get that you can’t be with me…because of – because I’ll remind you. But if there’s ever a time where you – think maybe you can… God, that sounds so pathetic. But I’m – I’m always going to be all for you.”

“Oh, _Louis_ ,” Harry said quietly. “Lou, it’s not because you remind me of what happened. You don’t, not more than anything else. …It’s – you… I broke up with you because I thought – when you realized what really happened, you’d be sick of me.”

“I _still_ don’t even know what happened, Harry,” Louis said, shaking his head, “but I don’t think I could ever be sick of you. Babe, how many times has shitty communication gotten in our way? You should’ve – you should’ve talked to me! You should’ve just asked me.”

“I couldn’t,” Harry said, upset. “I was so – even now, I’m so scared, just all the time. And not because I’ve got a crazy father after me, or – or because I think someone’s going to hurt me; I’m just jumpy, and it’s annoying. It drives Niall and Liam _crazy_ , even though they understand –”

“When have I ever been bothered by problems you have?” Louis asked, not enough energy to demand it. “I love you, and that means problems you have, not just –”

“Mark got my dad out,” Harry blurted out, interrupting like he couldn’t stand the secret-keeping a second longer. “He was mad at me – for, for dating you and lying to him, so he got in touch with my – with my father and. And then he made a deal with him, and got him loose, but he tricked – everyone, he tricked everyone, and it was so awful but he – Des – got mad, right, and he, like – and Mark just – the gun, his gun, Mark pulled out a gun he had and – and shot him. Shot Des, I’m –” Louis pulled Harry forward into his lap, and let Harry turn awkwardly around to get more comfortable, hating that his boy was so obviously upset.

Harry kept trying to tell the truth in stilted words, halted and hesitant, and Louis did his best not to interrupt or ask too many questions. When he was finished, Louis sat in quiet shock, unable to believe it, even though he, of course, didn’t think Harry would lie. He saw, then, where Harry had felt the guilt and the apprehension – in Harry’s mind, it really was down to his dating Louis that Des and Mark were dead. Louis understood that, even though he didn’t agree: for a few minutes, he himself felt that way. If he hadn’t carried on with Harry – if he’d followed his gut instincts that told him Mark meant business, maybe everyone would still be alive, and Harry wouldn’t have been hurt that way. But at the same time, he knew that wasn’t right – that he hadn’t done anything wrong by being with Harry, and that Mark was obviously twisted and sick – and having that feeling for even the split second he did made him want to kiss away Harry’s doubts. 

“It’s not your fault,” he said over and over again. “We weren’t doing anything wrong.” He knew Harry was trying to believe him, and hoped that if he held tight enough, Harry’d get it through his head. 

\---

It took two weeks after that conversation for Louis to be woken up by the light of his phone. They’d gone back to seeing each other a few times a week, at least, as Harry’s life started becoming slightly more normal again and finals were upon them, and still, Louis found himself thinking about Harry all the time.

 _I feel like it’s embarrassing to tell you how much I miss you_ , Louis read. _but I’m kind of tired of caring about how other people see my feelings._

Louis read the message about seven times, becoming more and more awake and more and more hopeful each time around. Finally, he texted back. _I never wanted you to be embarrassed about your feelings. For what it’s worth, I didn’t even know it was possible to miss someone you see all the time so much_

The next morning, Harry surprised Louis by standing at his locker, hands behind his back and bottom lip swollen from being chewed and sucked on. “Hi,” Harry said, and Louis felt more awake, like Harry’s smile was caffeine from the biggest cup of coffee he could’ve ever had. 

“Morning,” Louis answered, butterflies in his stomach. He hadn’t slept well, after texting Harry back, but he’d gotten no reply until now, with Harry standing and waiting for him. 

“I’m glad we broke up,” Harry said, and the smile dropped off Louis’ face.

“Oh,” he said, but Harry had already reached for his shirt, fisting the material tight when Louis took a step back. 

“I didn’t – I meant, like – I’m not glad we broke up like _that_ ,” he said, gesturing frantically with his free hand. “I meant, like, I was scared I was too, like, dependent on you, like I said, and I was afraid I wasn’t able to do it on my own, once you were gone – but I, you know. I can…I just don’t want to.”

Louis looked up at Harry, hope surely shining bright on his face, and gave him a tentative smile. “I don’t want you to do it alone, either,” he admitted, feeling how true those words were deep to his very core. 

Harry bit his lip and then leaned in quickly, pressing a chaste kiss to Louis’ lips. He backed up right away, but he smiled widely and brushed hair from his face. “I have a lot to work on, still,” he said, like a warning. “I’m – there’s, like, a lot, and I’m gonna –”

“Harry, I don’t care if you have different needs,” Louis interrupted, feeling breathless and desperate. “I literally do not care at all.”

Harry smiled, then, the uncertainty fading from his face with rapid pace. “Then, will you, erm. Do you think we could maybe…go out again?”

Louis probably failed his English final. He didn’t really care.

\---

Louis was ripped from his dreams and the warmed around him when, through his sleep, he heard a choked-off gasp from his left. Opening his eyes, Louis could make out in the darkness the silhouette of Harry, sitting up hunched over in a curve, his outline rocking up and down as he gasped for breath. In that instant, Louis sat up, too, and started cooing out words in a slow, quiet tone. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” he said gently, and shifted around to Harry’s side to get the boy to look over at him. Harry’s eyes were wide as they stared at Louis for a moment, but Louis put his hand on Harry’s cheek and those same eyes closed tightly as he leaned into Louis’ hand. He squeezed his eyes shut and his lips pulled into a frown and his chin trembled, and he took several deep breaths through his nose, which told Louis he was trying not to cry. 

“Sorry I woke you up,” Harry said, and Louis shook his head minutely, like the statement was an irritating fly buzzing around his face, even though Harry couldn’t see it.

“Hey, shhh,” Louis said. “You’re okay. It was just a dream, sweetheart.” Harry made a hurt sound in the back of his throat, and Louis had to swallow. Right. It wasn’t _just_ a dream; it was a memory. “What was it this time?” He asked. Before Harry answered, Louis shifted back towards the headboard. “Come back here,” he suggested, wanting to comfort Harry without killing their backs from slouching over. 

He and Harry scooted back, and Louis pushed his pillow up to cushion his spine against the wood. Harry opted to lean against Louis’ chest, sideways and curled up so his knees lay over Louis’ thighs while Louis wrapped his arms around his boy’s side. “It was the lights,” he said quietly. “And your – and blood; it was all over me. It was _on me_ , Louis,” he said a little louder, and started trembling against Louis. 

Louis tried, as he had at least three nights a week in the two months since Harry had let Louis back in his bed, to come up with something calming or comforting to say, but what was he meant to do? Tell Harry the feeling of having a _literal_ blood shower would go away? Would it? Would it ever be something Harry didn’t think about? Harry confessed recently that when it would start to rain outside, just barely sprinkling, sometimes he would automatically jump to that feeling of blood splashing onto his skin – just for a split second, before his brain would register, so quick he didn’t even have time to react to it outwardly. Would Harry ever _not_ jump to awful thoughts like that? Louis hoped so.

For now, though, Louis had to deal with the present: a crying boy against his chest, who witnessed a murder and a suicide within half an hour. Add that on to his already-existing anxiety issue, and now, Harry suffered from partial insomnia and, every once in a while, panic attacks. 

Louis rubbed Harry’s shoulder and pressed soft kisses all over Harry’s head and forehead, wherever his lips could reach. “I’m so sorry,” he said quietly. “I wish I could make it go away, sweetheart; I’d give anything to make it go away.” In cases like this, Louis felt split open and raw with how desperately he wanted to put Harry in a bubble, how desperately his heart truly _burned_ and _ached_ at the reality that Harry had seen way too much and been hurt way too many times. If it weren’t for the incredible growth Harry had made in the past three-and-a-half months, Louis would have gone insane, probably. 

Because following the – Louis called it _the incident_ ; what else? – Harry _had_ made incredible progress. 

As for school, Harry had passed all his exams (of course) with flying colors. His last day of school had been stressful, what with him being a bit of a celebrity around the school – partially because of football, but mostly because he’d been involved in _the incident_ – but they’d all gotten through it. 

As for Harry’s house, he loved it. It was big, and when they didn’t have enough time to go to the Jungle, or the energy, they sat on that same low branch Louis imagined them sitting on, and late at night, when the heat wasn’t so bad and there weren’t kids everywhere, they went to the park if they needed some space. 

Harry upped his therapy; he now saw Karen twice a week. He also had gotten his meds upped about fifty milligrams per dosage, and Karen had recommended they add one for his newfound insomnia and nightmare issues – something that would really knock Harry out for a solid eight hours so he wouldn’t be waking up all the time – but he had a nightmare after taking one, and instead of waking up, he just slept on and it was much worse for him when he finally woke up in the morning. He wasn’t very consistent about taking that one, afterwards, but he was good with his anxiety meds and, with Karen’s help and Louis and Anne and even Robin’s help, Harry was learning ways to cope with anxiety attacks and general anxiety issues when his pills weren’t quite cutting it.

That was another thing – Robin. Harry’s relationship with Robin was pretty much back to square one on a physical, biological level. Robin was perfectly understanding and patient, but it was driving Harry _mad_. Harry, mentally (most of the time), got on with Robin, and if he had his way, he wouldn’t be nervous around him, really, unless they were alone. Since _the incident_ , though, he’d really struggled with involuntary reactions whenever Robin was around. Harry, Anne, and Robin’d had a picnic at the park by the new house, so they could spend time together without making Harry feel trapped in the new house. (Louis hadn’t been able to make it, but Harry found he could do it alone, if he had to. It was nice.) Harry flinched a bit whenever Robin did something completely unexpected, which frustrated Harry to no end, but everyone was stressing to Harry that he remember that progress was a process; not an overnight thing. Since the picnic, they’d gotten in the habit of having them, and Harry and Anne would meet Robin out in public places, like dinner or lunch or ice cream places. It was nice for Louis to see Harry being doted on in a way that didn’t make him feel awkward. He was really starting to relax a bit more.

Louis, on the other hand, had all but stopped relaxing. 

Surprisingly enough, Jay and Louis’ sisters had all been in Mark’s will, each of the girls earning a trust they could dip into once they turned eighteen, and Jay got pretty much everything else – the house included. Louis wondered how long it’d been since Mark had updated his will, but it really didn’t matter – the girls were taken care of in ways Louis hadn’t been able to fathom for months, now, what with the divorce impending. 

Louis had kept the job, though – actually, he’d taken on _more_ hours, working four hours every day, which kept him at part-time, but gave him more money than he’d been getting, at any rate. He tried to keep his hours about the same as Harry’s, on the days Harry worked, but even though it didn’t really work out perfectly all the time, it was alright, because it gave Harry plenty of time to hang out with the other boys without Louis…which was kind of the idea: figure out how to be fine without him. 

Even though Louis loved the idea, it still kind of sucked, and left him feeling less needed than he was used to, with Harry. Still, Louis had to suck it up. It was good for Harry, and like it or not, Louis wouldn’t be able to run away from his responsibilities to be with Harry 24/7 for the rest of his life. 

Louis had also met with Adam Leslie, from Middle Tennessee State College, and though their football team was actually statistically better, their sports med program wasn’t as solid as UNF’s – and they only offered to pay sixty percent of the (slightly more expensive) tuition. It was also farther away and had less networking opportunities, and though Mr. Leslie was very polite and kind, Louis had felt more comfortable with Mr. Riverez. In the last week of school, Louis signed with the University of North Florida with a seventy-five percent ride, and Harry and their friends had been allowed to leave class for the signing, since it was such a big deal. Louis’ mum was there, too, and had taken so many pictures it was _embarrassing_. 

So, really, life was actually going pretty well, considering. But once Louis signed that paper, it hit him that he would be leaving towards the beginning of August, thirteen hours away from Marshall. From home. 

Harry had been patient – so, so patient – with Louis, sighing and leaving the warmth of his bed to go to Walmart for new dorm stuff, or school supplies even though Louis had enough for seven years of college put together, probably, and they’d spent so much of their free time in the Jungle, it wasn’t even funny. Louis was exhausted simply because he’d spent so much time running away from reality, and the rest trying to fit as much time in with his mum and sisters and friends and _Harry_ , who was so important and would be thirteen hours away. 

“Sorry I woke you up,” Harry said quietly, after an eternity of Louis being lost in his own world. “Really, I’m fine. Go back to sleep. I think I just – I’m just gonna go get a drink of water, probably put my earphones in and watch something on Netflix until I can get to sleep, okay?”

Harry kissed Louis’ chest and squeezed Louis’ thigh as he got out of bed, and when he paused by the door to his bedroom, he smiled over his shoulder softly at Louis, waiting until Louis lay back down, reluctantly. 

“Love you,” Louis said, like it was stubborn will and obstinate defiance that was keeping him from falling asleep again, rather than worry, and selfish fear. 

Harry smiled back at him. “I love you, too.”

\---

“Lou. Lou _is_ , wake up.”

Louis peeled one eye open reluctantly and tilted his face to where he sensed, rather than saw, Harry was leaning over him. “Whass’matter?” He asked, blinking awake. Rubbing his eyes, he sat up, bumping cheeks against Harry, who was closer in the dark than he thought. “You okay?”

Harry’s face was suddenly illuminated when Louis turned on the lamp by his bed, cheeks flushed and lip bitten and eyes dark, even in the light. He was straddling Louis, Louis quickly realized, and shifting on Louis’ lap. 

“What is it, baby?” Louis asked, rubbing Harry’s arms comfortingly. 

“I want you to have sex with me,” Harry said abruptly. “I want you to – I want to have sex. Tonight. Now.”

Louis barely had time to process the words before Harry’s mouth was on his, and he quickly wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist, gripping at his warm back as Harry rolled his hips against Louis with a confidence Louis didn’t know he had during sexual encounters. 

“Harry –” Louis managed, but Harry only moaned and shifted to palm at Louis’ cock over his boxers, and Louis momentarily forgot what he was trying to say. 

He flipped Harry over, rolling on top of him, and noted that Harry was _completely_ naked, already freed from his briefs and pajama shorts he tended to sleep with since _the incident_ zapped a lot of his comforts away. 

They’d been with each other, in a few ways, since it happened, of course – it had been months, and Harry was sixteen – but Louis hadn’t expected Harry to want to go all the way already. 

As soon as he thought it, Louis noticed the way Harry was whining against his mouth, rolling his hips up even though he wasn’t completely hard against Louis’ hip, and his hands were gripping desperately at Louis’ biceps, clinging tightly in a way he didn’t usually. 

Harry was _not_ ready for this.

“Wait, wait,” Louis said as he ended the kiss, and Harry looked devastated already, like he knew the jig was up. “Harry, we can’t do this.”

“We have to,” Harry said, his eyes filling up rapidly with tears. “ _Please_ , Louis, please. Please, I – we have to do it.”

Louis’ throat got tight all of a sudden. “No, baby, we don’t,” he said gently, and rolled off to the side. Harry sobbed, once, and Louis pulled him into his lap, brushing hair away from his face and letting Harry slide his toes underneath one of his thighs, as was customary in cuddles. “We don’t have to do _anything_ ; there’s no _rules_ for this. We can do it any time we want, babe.”

Harry wrapped his arms around Louis’ midsection, burying his face against Louis’ chest, and Louis felt wetness on his skin, and leaned his head down to rest on top of Harry’s. It was uncomfortable, but they both needed the closeness. 

“It has to be tonight,” Harry insisted desperately, though he cried as he said it, like he knew Louis wouldn’t go for it.

“Harry,” Louis began, but Harry sobbed. 

“You leave in six hours,” Harry whispered, though his voice managed to break twice during the five-word sentence. 

Louis didn’t have anything to say to that, so for a long time, he held Harry tight and let himself be held in return. “I know,” he said eventually, his throat tight and words strained. 

Harry was quiet for a while after that, too, and once again, like they had thousands of times already, Louis wondered if he was doing the right thing in leaving. Did he really need to go all the way to Florida for a good education? To play football? There were so many colleges and universities he could go to that would be so much closer. And – and he had money, and his mum had plenty, too; Louis hadn’t been in the will, but Louis’ mum would be more than happy to help him out if he ended up needing it. 

“I don’t want you to go,” Harry said, and Louis closed his eyes tight, and he knew he had to do it. 

“I have to, baby,” he said a little sadly. Harry nodded; he knew Louis needed to do it just as well as Louis did. 

“I’m gonna miss you so much,” Harry said, and Louis felt him shake through another round of silent sobs, shaking Louis right along with him. 

“I’m gonna miss you, too, Harry,” Louis mumbled, and kissed Harry’s head. Ridiculously, the way Harry’s messy curls managed to sneak into his mouth and up his nostril was what made him start crying, and he did his best to keep it still and silent for Harry’s benefit. 

They held each other for the rest of the night, and Louis fell asleep with tear tracks on his face and tear tracks on his chest, pooling up against his collarbone, and he woke with red marks where Harry’s fingers held him tight reluctant and afraid to let go.

\---

Jay was crying, and trying to hide it. The girls were crying, the twins and Fliss not understanding why they should bother trying to keep it inside, and Lottie was angry and hiding inside the door. Stan was tight-lipped in his tight bro-hug, Zayn was simultaneously more affectionate and gruff that he’d ever been. Liam looked like he didn’t know what to say, and Niall had tears on his red-flushed cheeks even though he kept swearing a blue streak and swiping at them with the backs of his hands as he watched everyone say goodbye. 

Jay walked Louis to the car, where Harry was sitting in the passenger seat and had been for ten minutes, now, staring out the window in silence. She hugged Louis tight, a hand on the back of his head. “Take care of yourself, do you hear me?” She asked. “Study hard, and play hard. Remember to stretch, Louis Tomlinson, or so help me – in the morning _and_ before bed. Don’t – I know you’re going to drink, but don’t get out of hand. Don’t you dare get mixed up with drugs or bad people. I’ll come to Florida and kick your ass myself; don’t you doubt me. Call – any chance you get; if I miss it I’ll call back as soon as I can. I’m – I love you so much, my baby.”

She started shaking against Louis, and Louis blew out quick breaths, like it’d help him stave off tears. He’d had plenty of tears, enough to last a lifetime, but looking towards the passenger seat of his car, Louis knew he had more to come. 

“I love you, too, Mum,” Louis mumbled, allowing himself not to think of Harry for a moment as he looked at his family and friends, all sticking with each other. 

Jay backed off, then, a watery smile on her face that Louis tried to reciprocate. Just before Louis turned and got in the car, though, the front door opened, and Louis heard his name being called. 

Lottie ran down the long driveway, huffing and puffing by the time she got to him, and she was already crying when she wrapped her arms around him tightly, her head falling against Louis’ sternum as she pulled him in close. Louis hugged her back fiercely, not believing how much he was going to miss his oldest little sister, for how close they were despite the age gap. 

When she backed up, she went straight into Jay’s arms and looked away, like she couldn’t physically watch her brother leaving. 

Louis took a deep breath and plastered a smile on his face, and waved to his friends and sisters and mum. “I love you guys! Be good for Mum, okay?” He addressed his sisters – well, it applied for the boys, too, he supposed. “I’ll call, I promise!”

As soon as he got into the car, facing away from his family, Louis’ breath turned shaky. Harry gripped his thigh, a calming presence as his fingers shook against the key in the ignition. “It’s okay, Lou,” Harry said quietly, and the engine caught and hummed to life.

The drive back to Harry’s was quiet, Louis holding Harry’s hand over the gearshift and not knowing what he could possibly say to make it hurt any less for either of them. Harry’s grip became tighter and tighter the closer they got to Harry’s house, and when Louis turned the car off after parking, Harry let out a sob. 

“Don’t leave me when you go,” he said through his tears, unable to look over at Louis.

“Babe –” Louis got out of the car, and Harry was still struggling with his buckle by the time Louis opened the door for him. 

Anne and Robin were walking out of the front door, though, to say their goodbyes to Louis, so Harry had to wait. 

Anne was misty-eyed, a bit, as she hugged Louis goodbye and gave him a strikingly similar lecture to that of Louis’ mum’s, and Robin gave Louis a hug, so tight that Louis’ body was curved over Robin’s belly. “Thank you for everything,” Robin whispered in Louis’ ear gruffly, and Louis nodded before he was released. 

“We’ll – we’ll be inside, Harry,” Anne said softly, and Louis looked over to see Harry, who was facing the street with his back turned to their goodbyes, nod wordlessly. 

Louis swallowed tightly and made his way to Harry, pivoting around Harry to look him in the eye. Harry’s face was screwed up and his skin was blotchy and red, his eyes bright and bloodshot and his hair frizzy and clearly neglected, much like Louis’. Yet, he was still the most beautiful person Louis had ever seen. One look at him, and Louis was crying, pulling Harry close, threading a hand through his tangled, messy hair and the other hand wrapping close around his waist, crying on Harry’s shoulder while Harry gripped him even tighter in return and sobbed in the curve of his neck.

“Don’t leave – please, please don’t leave me,” Harry cried, begging and it shot Louis through the chest with more pain for each word. 

“I – I have to, baby, I _have_ to go,” Louis protested weakly. He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to go.

But Harry knew he had to go, and he nodded even as he pulled Louis tighter. “Don’t leave me now, though,” he said, and Louis understood.

“Never,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m – you still are mine, you know? And I’m all yours, I can’t imagine someone else with – I only want you. I’m staying. I’m staying.”

They cried more, and Louis knew he’d be pulling into his hotel in Alabama late, but he couldn’t say goodbye, not like this.

When Harry’s crying slowed and Louis’ had already petered out, Harry’s voice cracked when he asked, “Do you promise?”

“Oh,” Louis said, and pulled back to look him in the eye. 

Harry’s face was even more of a mess than it had been before. Hair was all over the place, and mixtures of snot, sweat, and tears were pooling in the dips – the top of his lip, his chin, the hollows under his eyes. Louis wiped at his skin and pushed the hair back into its proper place before he kissed Harry’s lips once, nodding.

“Promise,” he said, and gripped his necklace, holding the pendant in his fist so Harry couldn’t see it, but knew it was there. “I’d never – I’d never find someone who’s so – so warm, and so brave, or passionate and caring, or sweet. I’ll – you’re everything I want, Harry, okay? Everything. And I’m not – I won’t make you bullshit promises, like to call every day, because I don’t know if I’ll be able to – but I’m going to – I’m going to fight for us, okay? And I need you to promise me…” Louis swallowed, and he felt his eyes stinging again as his voice wavered. “I need you to promise me something, too, okay? I need you to promise that you’re gonna fight as hard as I am. I need you to – you have to help me, alright? Because I’m in the dark on this, I’m – I need your help. You’re so much stronger than me, and you’re so – you’re braver than I am, even if you don’t know it, and I need you to really fight for us. Don’t let me be – don’t let me be an asshole to you, or anything like that. I want you to tell me all about your day, even the little things. I want to hear about your – your grades and your ice creams and Robin and Anne and the boys and even your farts, like –” Harry and Louis both laughed wetly, but Louis was being so sincerely genuine. “I want it all. And I want to tell you all of it on my side, too, so you have to – you have to help me make it work, okay?” 

Harry’s eyes were wet again, but he nodded fiercely even as his chin wobbled, and he wrapped his arms around Louis one last time before he pulled away first. “You – go, you have to go now,” he said, crying. “Leave, or else I won’t let you. Please, Louis. I love you so much.”

Louis let himself be pushed to the car, but before he sat down in the seat, he grabbed Harry’s face in both hands and kissed him one last time, pulling back to look at him fiercely. “You are the most important thing to me,” he said. “And we _will_ make it. I love you.”

Harry covered his mouth and let tears run freely once Louis shut the door and buckled up, and Louis grabbed the sunglasses from the pile of things behind his arm rest and put them on, trying to hide them from Harry. He kept his lips pressed tight as he turned the car on, and didn’t look at Harry as he drove away, down Harry’s street, and out of town.

University of North Florida-bound, Louis Tomlinson drove away from the person who taught him what it was to truly touch someone.


End file.
